


Mended Hearts

by Ray_Writes



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eloping, Episode: s04e16 Broken Hearts, F/M, Fake Marriage, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, but not for fans of that ship, mentions of olicity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:33:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21736876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ray_Writes/pseuds/Ray_Writes
Summary: When Felicity refuses to take part in the plan to capture Cupid, Oliver must find something else to lure the love-obsessed archer in... orsomeoneelse. The trouble with the best laid plans is that they often have unintended consequences.
Relationships: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen
Comments: 97
Kudos: 96





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all! This idea was something that came to me last week and I worked on, finishing the first chapter. The people over at the Lauriver discord encouraged me to share it with you now instead of waiting to complete the second part, so many thanks to them!  
> Two basic premises to address before you all dive in: 1. In this AU, the hearing about Darhk takes a fraction of the time (Diggle’s questioning is completely cut, for instance) since that B Plot mostly existed to keep Laurel out of the A Plot (why the B Plot was the part involving the season’s main villain, I’ll never know, but I digress). 2. Marriage laws for Star City more closely resemble California than they do Washington State (since Arrow used both Seattle and San Francisco at different points for inspiration on the city’s design, this didn’t feel like too much of a stretch). At any rate, I hope you enjoy, and I will do my best to have the second part of this completed ASAP. Thanks for reading!

Felicity laughed. Normally it was a sound Oliver cherished, but in this instance it was sharp and mocking.

“This is the _worst_ idea you've ever had.”

Oliver said nothing. He’d known she wouldn’t be happy with this plan, but he’d hoped she might see the need to stop Cupid from taking more innocent lives. Their own feelings, whatever they were, had to be set aside for now. They could still work together; it was what they’d said they both wanted.

John leaned forward. “Actually, it's not the worst.”

Felicity whirled around to face their friend, shock and indignation clear on her face. “ _Et tu_ , John?”

“We lost our lead on Cutter, Felicity, and this might draw her out.” 

“Oh, so she can kill me,” she replied. “Pass. No, thank you.”

Thea tried to reason that she and John would be on hand to intercede before Cupid could launch an attack, but his former fiancé would not hear it. She was even more incensed when he was forced to reveal he’d had yet to cancel their reservation at the wedding venue.

“Felicity, you’d be safe—” As he stepped forward, she stepped back.

“No, Oliver, it’s over. I am done playing bait for you!”

He froze. Felicity looked shocked for a moment, then her features closed up. She nodded, almost to herself, and marched towards the elevator.

“Felicity?”

The elevator doors closed and, apart from the sound of its ascent, the base was left completely silent. He kept his gaze fixed on the elevator doors, not wanting to see either Thea or John’s pitying looks.

He still felt it when his sister touched his arm. “Ollie, I’m sorry.”

“We need to focus on Cupid,” he said gruffly. “She’s out there killing innocent people. We have to stop her.”

“We agree with you, Oliver, but how do we lure her out without the plan?” John asked. And truthfully, he didn’t know. But he had to keep trying.

Trying was all he was good for, apparently. Even if experience seemed to show that would never be enough.

“Okay, what do we have?” He asked aloud of his team. “We have a wedding venue.”

“That’s booked only your name,” Thea pointed out.

He grimaced. “Yes, but it doesn’t have to be my wedding.”

“Can’t be mine,” Digg was quick to point out.

“Yeah, and there’s no way I could get Alex or any guy to propose to me in enough time to turn this around. So there go the obvious candidates you’d book a venue for.”

Oliver had to admit they were right. He tried to think of other couples he knew — even if Captain Lance had the time to give them an answer right now, Felicity would intercede the minute she heard her mother was involved. And Oliver didn’t like the idea of making Quentin lie to his girlfriend anyway.

Thea’s phone buzzed. “Darhk’s being denied bail.”

Oliver looked around sharply. “He is?”

“Yeah. Laurel was able to use her dad’s testimony to prove he’s too dangerous. He’ll be held in Iron Heights until the trial.” 

“Well, that’s some good news,” John remarked. “At least Laurel came through.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Not many people can outmaneuver her in a courtroom.”

He looked back to Thea to give her a message to pass onto their friend, but paused at the contemplative look on her face.

“Speedy?”

“Just thinking.”

He exchanged a nonplussed look with Digg. “About?”

“Cupid. And Laurel. And Alex..,” she added, almost as an afterthought.

“Laurel and _Alex?_ ” Oliver echoed with barely concealed distaste. The thought of it alone was making him ill.

“No,” Thea said with a roll of her eyes. “I meant some of the things Alex said. You know, when he was trying to convince you to distance yourself?”

“When was that?” John asked with a frown.

“A while ago. It was — I talked him down. But Thea, what does any of that have to do with stopping Cupid?”

“It has everything to do with it. If Alex thought you and Laurel still being close was something people might talk about.” She seemed to sense his growing frustration with her talking circles around the issue, for she laid her hands flat on the table and leaned forward. “Ollie, we need a couple in a venue that’ll get people talking online where Cupid can see. You booked the venue. And since your ex is refusing to cooperate for a fake private ceremony...you’re gonna have to elope.”

It hit him a moment later just who she meant him to elope with. “No.”

“Look, I’m not exactly crazy about dragging all that up again.”

“Yes, because it’s complicated, Thea. Laurel and I are complicated.” They’d finally committed to a stronger friendship before everything with William had been blown out into the open. He should have spoken to her privately first. The guilt he felt when thinking back on her kindness with Samantha still ate at him a month later.

John was shaking his head. “We gotta have some other way.”

Thea shrugged. “Well, who else do we know that we could get in on the plan? You want me to call up the Flash and get hitched?”

“No,” Oliver said just as firmly, though for different reasons this time. He had nothing against Barry, but potential husbands for Thea were supposed to be vetted. His mother would rise from her grave with no supernatural aid to haunt him if he let her baby girl elope. “I’ll do it. It’s just — anyone but Laurel.”

The faces his sister and brother-in-arms made indicated they thought that was harsh. Oliver presses his lips together for a moment, frustrated.

“I didn’t mean it like that. This would ruin her reputation. Her career, her- her social life.” He’d meant to say dating life but hadn’t quite been able to force the words out. Oliver knew, of course, that someday Laurel might start dating again. She deserved to try dating again, if it was something that would make her happy.

He even tried to picture it for a moment. But try as he did, it just didn’t seem right. He shook his head. Now wasn’t the time.

Thea has begun speaking regardless. “We can tell the press after that you were helping law enforcement capture Cutter and that the whole thing was fake. It’ll be fine.”

“You gotta ask Laurel if it’s fine with her first,” John said, and Oliver was glad for it. Until he realized his friend hadn’t been looking at Thea.

“I have to ask?”

“This was your idea.”

“My idea was—” Oliver clamped his mouth shut before he finished that thought. He couldn’t tell the others that his idea had been to work with Felicity and remind her of the team they made together. To try and bridge the divide he’d created between them. He shouldn’t have been using their work to patch up his relationship, as badly as he wanted to. Even if he had a feeling they both suspected it anyway.

“She’s on her way to the base,” Thea informed him. “Best to ask her as soon as possible.”

They both retreated to the mats in order to respect his space as he weighed his options. Asking this of Laurel...it was a lot, especially considering everything that had happened recently.

But Cutter needed to be stopped before others paid the price. That was true with or without Felicity. The question now was whether the plan could continue with Laurel’s consent.

She entered the base still in her courtroom attire. “Hey, Thea said the lead on Cupid didn’t work out. Do we have a new strategy yet?”

“We do. Or we’re looking at one. Uh, let’s—” He reached to her arm to help guide her into one of the smaller, unoccupied rooms off to the side. “All we know about Cutter’s plans is that she’s targeting high-profile weddings or newlyweds.”

Laurel nodded.

“I had the thought that we could use the venue and everything from, from Felicity and my...you know,” he finally said, not quite able to finish that sentence. Laurel watched him sympathetically. “The only problem is Felicity is not comfortable with that plan.”

“Is that why she’s not here right now?”

“I’m not sure she’s coming back,” Oliver admitted, scared as he was to voice it. He didn’t realize he’d looked down until he felt Laurel’s hand on his cheek, guiding him back up to meet her kind eyes.

“I’m sorry. This is all coming at such a hard time for you.”

Oliver swallowed down the lump in his throat. “Yeah, well, Cutter’s not going to stop killing just because I’m going through a breakup. So we need two people at that venue getting married. Felicity refuses, and John and Thea are both out for obvious reasons…”

He saw the moment she realized what he was asking without having the courage to actually say the words. Her eyes widened, and her hand jerked back. “Oh.”

“You have every reason to say no.”

“Do I?” He thought he detected a hint of a laugh in her tone as well, though this one was far less mocking than Felicity’s had been. “Cutter’s out there. How soon were you hoping to do this?”

“Tomorrow. That’s the earliest I could get the venue to move up the reservation.”

“Tomorrow,” Laurel echoed. He could see her holding back, trying to keep from looking overwhelmed.

“We can figure out a different plan,” he offered again, even as he had no idea what that plan would be.

Laurel licked her lips, her eyes on the ground for a long time. She looked back up at him.

“She’ll pick some other couple to kill if we don’t act fast.”

“She will.” He hoped she understood the apology in his gaze.

Laurel drew in a breath. “Okay, then let’s get her. Let’s get married.”

Oliver breathed his own sigh of relief. “Thank you. I wouldn’t ask, but — Laurel, where are you going?”

For she’d stepped away and was picking up her purse. “You mean where we’re going? If this is going to work, we need to apply for a marriage license. You have your ID?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Then let’s go. I’ll drive.”

He followed in Laurel’s wake, unaccountably grateful for her sense of organization and ability to think with a clear head. At times, her emotions ruled her, but she had come a long way from when she’d first started out as a vigilante. The fact they were able to embark on this plan at all was proof of that.

They could be professionals about this, Oliver told himself. This was just another mission. They would deal with the consequences after, the way they always did.

In a way, he was almost glad he was doing this with Laurel.

\---

Laurel kept resisting the urge to pinch herself. Was this some messed up dream? A Vertigo hallucination? Some elaborate joke? Or was she really this much of a masochist?

Reality continued to hold as she and Oliver walked up the steps of the county clerk’s office, so it apparently really was the last one.

“I’ve only been to the county clerk’s office a handful of times. Shouldn’t really know anybody there,” she’d assured him on the drive over when he’d voiced a concern about running into someone. It was a precarious balance they were trying to walk; they wanted people talking so Cupid would know but not for people they interacted with to be talking. A secret elopement that was an open secret.

As they reached the doors, Oliver jogged up the final steps to hold the door open for her, placing his hand at the small of her back when he entered the building behind her. The fingers of Laurel’s right hand inched closer to her arm.

 _It’s not real,_ she kept repeating in her head like a mantra. _It’s just an act. He doesn’t do this kind of thing for you anymore. He never wanted to marry you._

If anything, she felt sorry for him. Oliver was meant to be getting this license with the woman he loved, basking in the knowledge that he would be spending the rest of his life with her.

“Still no response from Felicity?” Laurel muttered out of the corner of her mouth. They joined a line of people waiting to submit their applications.

He shook his head. A beat later, he admitted in a shameful voice, “I think she blocked me.”

Laurel reached for his hand, squeezing it tight. It probably helped whatever front they were trying to put on, but she thought he knew her real intent behind the gesture judging by the sad smile he gave her.

“Can I help whose next?”

Laurel stepped forward and pasted a smile on her face. Giddy bride-to-be. “Hi, we’re here to apply for a marriage license.”

“Do you each have a valid ID?”

“We do.” Oliver presented his driver’s license as she did hers. If the clerk recognized either of them, she didn’t say. A consummate professional. Laurel could respect that.

They filled out their portion of the forms needed and Oliver confirmed that they had an officiant and a witness for the ceremony.

“So who is our witness?” Laurel asked as they hurried down the steps, Oliver once again sticking close.

“Me,” said a familiar voice from their right. Laurel looked in time to see Thea lowering her phone. “Sorry, thought the leak might be more believable with a fake paparazzi shot. Ollie, Digg’s waiting to drop you off at the base. I’m gonna go with Laurel to start preparations.”

He nodded. “Okay.” She felt his hand squeeze her arm for a second before he let go and walked over to where she could now see John’s car pulled into a space at the side of the building.

“Preparations?” Laurel repeated as she fell into step with Thea to head back to her own car.

“Yeah. Ollie’s on ring duty and he already has a suit. You need a dress.”

“Do I?”

“For this to pass off as real, yeah,” Thea told her.

“I do have a white pantsuit. What if I need to run for my life?” She pointed out.

“Laurel,” Thea groaned. “Work with me here. Cupid’s not gonna buy you two suddenly rediscovered your burning passion for each other if you show up in your _work clothes._ ”

Laurel was too busy choking at ‘burning passion’ to really have a reply ready for that. She went around her car to avoid looking at Thea and opened the driver’s door to get in. “I don’t think a bridal shop is going to be able to fit me for a dress in time.”

“Hey, I still know a few places. Don’t underestimate the power of the Queen name in my hands.”

Laurel rolled her eyes but had to smile at her younger friend’s antics. It made this feel less awkward.

Back in the city, Thea got them into a boutique Laurel wasn’t sure she’d even known the name of before, and a gushing attendant conferred with Thea in the racks about what kind of cut would look best and whether there should be sleeves or not. 

Laurel’s only job was apparently to try things on and look pretty. She tried not to watch the mirror too much. This wasn’t any more real than the vague imaginings she’d had as a child of her wedding dress.

She walked out of the changing stall to two gasps. “Oh, _Laurel._ ”

Against her better judgement, Laurel looked.

It wasn’t anything like what she’d pictured as a child. There was no poofy skirt with the princess glitter. There wasn’t even a train. If anything, it was a simple evening dress in white, with off the shoulder straps and a slit in the skirt that showed off some of her leg. It would also give her a better ability to run if the situation ended up calling for it.

Most importantly, she was confident it wasn’t what Felicity had been planning to wear. Even if Oliver hadn’t ever seen the dress, she did not wish to be a pale imitation of his chosen bride.

It was what she’d signed up for, though, wasn’t it?

Thea was convinced Cupid would show up sometime during the ceremony. “She’s been getting bolder, and I mean, how could she miss something like this?”

“You’re not going to miss it,” Laurel remarked as they left the shop with her new dress.

“Oh. Well, the plan is for me and John to be waiting to take her on.”

“I know, but we need a witness, Thea. I can’t ask my dad.” He’d think she was crazy after that near-breakdown she’d had in his office last month. Better for him not to know until after the whole thing was over and done with.

“Okay. If that’s what you need,” Thea agreed after a pause. She was watching Laurel closely now.

“It would make more sense for you to be the single witness anyway,” Laurel continued, hoping to distract her. “Ollie and I both consider you family, after all.”

That got a smile. “Well, for the record, I’m honored,” Thea told her. “God, it’s gonna be so much fun whenever I get to plan your real wedding.”

Laurel’s smile froze on her face. “I wouldn’t go to anyone else,” she eventually decided on. She didn’t have the heart to tell Thea that the only person she had ever envisioned herself marrying was the man who had asked her in order to catch a serial murderer. How was that for fun?

She had the next day off work, which was both a blessing and a curse. Laurel didn’t know if she would have been able to concentrate on anything at the office, but she had nothing to even try to distract herself with at home. All except the blank sheet of paper Thea had set in front of her.

Vows. Apparently it would be more believable for them to write their own rather than recite the traditional lines. And Cupid had a knack for sniffing out lies, so they had to come from a place of genuineness.

It wasn’t that she had nothing to say. But how did she write it in a way that didn’t make it _too_ genuine? Various drafts were started, ripped up and started again before Thea pulled her away to start on her hair and makeup. Laurel had her keep it simple, then ushered Thea out to get ready while she dressed and readied a precaution or two.

She drove to her own wedding. It was a funny little detail in her mind, one that helped remind her how fake all of this was. The dress Thea was wearing looked far too expensive for a sham wedding, but Laurel knew her friend liked the excuse to dress up when she could.

She was also wearing an earpiece, which she listened to as they entered the lobby of the Hochman Hotel. It was mercifully empty. “John’s in position, and Ollie’s waiting with the officiant,” Thea related to her. She helped Laurel out of her coat and hung it in a closet to the side. “You ready?”

There were butterflies in her stomach that try as she might, she could not fully suppress. She didn’t know how. “Yeah.”

Thea took her hand and they went through the double doors to the room that the ceremony would be conducted in. Oliver stood near the front on a raised step, talking to a woman who Laurel guessed was the officiant. His back was to them at first but he turned at their approach, his eyes wondering for a moment.

He’d always worn a tux well, and now was no exception. There was a boutonniere pinned to his lapel and she thought of their prom, her first attempt at dyeing her hair blonde.

Thea stayed back as Laurel went up the step to stand beside him.

“You look beautiful.”

Laurel ducked her head. “Thank you. You, uh, look very nice, too.” She turned to face the officiant as Oliver handed off a small cloth bag to Thea.

“We’re ready,” he said.

“Of course. Mr. Queen explained to me your, ah, circumstances,” the officiant said. Laurel sucked in a breath at the stink eye that the woman sent her way. There was no point ignoring that she probably looked like some kind of home wrecker, especially with William still being kept a secret from the public. Better for her reputation to take a hit than for that innocent boy to get dragged into the spotlight. She could handle the judgement of others. And it would all be cleared up the minute Cutter decided to crash the party.

“You’ve written your own vows? We’ll begin with you,” the officiant said, turning to Oliver. He nodded and cleared his throat, facing Laurel.

“Dinah Laurel Lance. You’ve been many things to me over the years, the most important of which is my friend. I’m lucky to have such a friend as you. Your patience, your understanding and most of all your compassion, have saved me and inspired me in turn more times than I can count. You’ve also fought with me and aggravated me beyond belief more times than I can help,” he added, which startled a laugh out of her.

He chuckled as well, but reigned it in as he said, “But through all of this, through all our struggles, we’ve come out of it stronger. That’s what has allowed us to be here today.”

Not in love, but in service of others, she knew. That was one thing she and Oliver could always agree on; the needs and safety of the people of this city were greater than their own.

“Any man would be lucky to be standing here in my place.”

She forced herself not to shake her head. She knew that was him trying to be kind, to say that after all of this was over she might find herself at a real wedding someday. He couldn’t know that just wasn’t going to happen. Not without him.

“But since I am the one standing here, whether I deserve that honor or not, I will make you these vows. I vow to listen to you, to take your advice into consideration before acting rashly. And I hope you can find that same counsel in me.”

He was talking about Machin. He was apologizing. Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out.

“I vow to keep you and your family in my heart, to love and to cherish them the same way you do mine.” They both glanced to Thea, who stood there with shining eyes and a warm smile on her face. Laurel found herself smiling as she and Oliver looked back to each other. “And I vow to be the friend you deserve, and to always strive to be better than the man I am, for you and for our families and friends.”

Thea stepped forward, taking a ring from the bag Oliver had given her and handing it to him. He turned to her, taking her left hand in his and slipping it onto her finger. She could feel his own hand trembling.

The ring was some kind of plain metal that seemed almost familiar, but the most she could tell was that it wasn’t usually used for wedding rings. Good, he’d kept his real ones. He was going to need them someday.

It was that thought that caused her eyes to start stinging. Laurel squeezed them shut and drew in two deep breaths. It was her turn.

“Oliver,” she began softly, then smiled as she added, “Ollie.” That brought a half-smirk out of him, and his eyes were warm as they looked into hers. “Through childhood, adolescence and adulthood, you have been one of the few constants in my life. Whether some consider that a good or bad thing. I know five years ago, I might have said the latter.”

He looked down.

“But that is one of the things we do best together,” Laurel continued, her voice gaining strength. “We grow and we change and we challenge one another. I could never have become the person I am today without you in my life, and that person is the best version of myself that I have yet to find. As the years have gone by, I hope and I know that you have found that version of you, too.”

On an impulse, she reached for his hands, gratified when he allowed her to take them.

“You are so much more than the man you think you are. You are more than your damage. All of us who you have let in over the years, to know you and to love you, know this. The greatest gift you have to give is yourself and your love.”

Oliver’s grip was tight around her hands, and his lips were pressed together in that way of his when he was trying to hide his emotions. It could all be an act for Cupid, wherever she was hiding, but Laurel hoped some of what she was saying was reaching him.

“So these are the promises I make to you as we continue our lives together. I promise to be there for you always, in whatever capacity you need that to be. I promise to support you in your convictions, and to hold you accountable to your principles. I promise to make time for the good days so we remember why we fight through the bad. And I promise to love you—” her voice wobbled and her breath hitched, but Laurel pushed on. “—as a partner and a friend.”

A sniffle to her right reminded Laurel to take the remaining ring from a teary Thea, and she breathed deep to steady herself as she placed it onto Oliver’s ring finger.

“With this exchange of vows and in the presence of your witness, I pronounce you man and wife,” their officiant said, her tone a surprising neutral. “You May kiss the bride,” she told Oliver.

Oliver hesitated. His eyes flirted to Thea, who gave the smallest shake of her head. No sign of Cupid. He looked back to her, eyes full of conflict.

Laurel told herself not to let that sting and instead turned her cheek slightly, so that when he did lean in it was only the corners of their lips that brushed. Her eyes still closed at the ghost of familiar sensation. When they leaned back, she forced a tight-lipped smile.

Thea clapped, probably to keep up the ruse, and then was directed to sign the certificate by the officiant. Oliver and Laurel signed after the officiant, who packed the certificate away and directed them out of the room. No Cupid. No arrows. Just them leaving their wedding ceremony completely silent.

And that was it. The fairytale dream of her youth. She was Oliver Queen’s wife. And it was nothing like she had ever imagined.

\---

Oliver tried to stay calm even as it seemed like his plan was turning out to be a failure. He wondered if Felicity were here whether she might take the moment to tell him she’d told him so. Of all his stupid ideas...

He, Laurel and Thea left out of a side door after grabbing the girls’ coats, as a number of cars were pulled up near the front. His sister’s leak had indeed drawn the paparazzi.

“There!”

“Oliver! Mr. Queen! What happened to you and Felicity Smoak?”

“Miss Lance! Or do we call you Mrs. Queen?”

Oliver did his best to shield Laurel from the cameras with his body. She was the least used to this out of all of them, their time dating before the island notwithstanding.

They made it into her car and pulled away from the hotel. “Now what?” Laurel asked. He couldn’t get a read on her from where he was sitting in the back — Thea had gone for the passenger seat likely out of habit.

“Well, Cutter didn’t actually go after the couples until after their ceremonies, so she could still be out there,” Thea told her. “We’ll have to keep the ruse going for a bit.”

“Right.” He did his best to focus on their ongoing mission. “We can’t afford to lead Cutter back to the base.”

“You’ll have to come back with us. Or me,” Laurel amended. “I guess Thea wouldn’t be staying over tonight.”

He ducked his head, a bit of heat creeping up his neck at the thought those words implied.

“I’ll have to circle back to meet up with Diggle so we can case the area around the apartment. Probably should have done that before, come to think of it.”

“This was on extremely short notice,” Oliver said. “You and John have been doing great.”

She grinned back at him. “So have you two.”

They reached the apartment, and Laurel let Thea out before taking her car into the garage under the building. Oliver followed her to the elevator, which they were thankfully able to take up without any other residents.

Though the closer they got to the apartment, the more Oliver’s mind kept going back to thoughts of what was considered proper for a wedding night. Not that Laurel would be expecting — but they had to play to some kind of expectation if Cupid were watching closely.

“Are your curtains closed or open?” He asked quietly as they stepped off the elevator.

“Couldn’t say. Why?”

“Because we may be being watched,” he reminded her.

She raised an eyebrow at him while undoing the lock on her apartment door. “So what’s the plan?”

“Trust me?”

She nodded. So Oliver stepped into her space and placed one arm at her back while the other went behind her knees. Laurel caught on, throwing her arms in a loose circle around his neck. She leaned her head on his shoulder, and he thought that was a deliberate choice on her part to keep their faces from getting too close. He really had to find some way to thank her for how much thought she was giving to his current state regarding relationships.

Laurel was a familiar weight in his arms, and he wasn’t sure if that made this more or less awkward for both of them. Oliver walked them over the threshold and set her down, taking note of the closed curtains. He blew out a breath and set her down, reaching behind him to shut the door.

“Should we share a room tonight?” Laurel’s back was to him as she hung up her coat, but he could see the tension in the line of her bare shoulders.

“I can sleep on the floor.”

“And have a stiff neck when we’re attacked in the middle of the night?”

“It’s not ideal,” he admitted. “But, Laurel…”

The last time he’d been in her bed had been a time of physical intimacy. The kind they no longer shared. He was still committed to Felicity, whatever she said about them being over, and sleeping in another woman’s bed no matter the circumstances seemed wrong. Especially considering his past.

“I’ll see if we have extra blankets to make a bed on the floor,” she told him. “Just add it to the list of preparations.” With that, she grabbed a number of picture frames off of shelves, end tables and the mantelpiece.

“Laurel?”

She passed him into the kitchen, setting the picture frames on the countertops there. “Mm-hm?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m my experience, the home invaders haven’t gotten into the kitchen, so I am putting the more fragile things in my apartment in there.”

He hung his head. Here he was fretting over propriety all while asking her to risk damage to her own home. “I’m sorry about this.”

“Don’t be sorry unless this doesn’t work.”

Right, where was Cupid? Oliver looked around. “What can I move?”

“My laptop? It’s over there,” Laurel said, gesturing to the desk that stood near a window. She took another trip to the kitchen, this time carrying a couple decorative bowls.

Oliver went to the desk, bumping into the right side as he moved around the chair. His leg caught the knob of the top drawer, pushing it out a couple inches. He went to push it back in but stopped at the sight of his own handwriting. Oliver instead pulled the drawer further out.

There was a letter sitting inside, one he was intimately familiar with. He’d written it only three years ago.

The paper was worn in a way that suggested it had been held a number of times. Oliver traced the words, hearing them in his own voice as though from some deep well within him. There were some words that were now unintelligible, discolored from dried splotches on the page: tears.

One sentence was completely unreadable but he knew it by heart.

_Never doubt my love for you._

His breath caught, the words seeming to burn there in his lungs, unspoken for the longest time.

“Ollie?”

He slid the drawer shut, spinning back around to face Laurel. She was watching him from the kitchen archway, leaning against it with her arms folded. Casual yet guarded. Why had he never seen that before?

“Laptop?”

“Uh, yeah. Right.” He reached behind himself for it and walked over to her. “I was just, just trying to see if I could spot Cupid or not. Nothing so far.”

“I’m starting to wonder if she’s ever showing up. Maybe we’re not such juicy gossip after all,” Laurel remarked, and there was something to her teasing grin like a note just slightly out of place, minor instead of major.

Did he ask? Did he dare? Maybe she’d shoved his letter into that drawer years ago and never looked at it again. Maybe she’d kept it as proof of his cowardice and hypocrisy. Maybe—

A window shattered, and Oliver reached to pull Laurel down to the floor with him. They were both tensed and waiting for the emergence of their enemy, but nothing followed.

Slowly, they both stood, staring at the arrow that was embedded in Laurel’s couch.

“A warning shot?” She guessed.

Too late Oliver noticed the canister attached. “We need to get out—”

Gas released, filling the room and choking them both. Oliver slumped to the floor, catching Laurel in his arms. A pair of boots entered his field of vision before everything went dark.

The first thing he really registered was music, a mellow-sounding male voice back by a soft piano and some kind of strings.

_...passing years will show_  
_You've kept my love so young, so new..._

Oliver forced his eyes to open, though he regretted it when he was met with harsh lights. Through that minor annoyance, he took in his surroundings.

They were in a warehouse. He was bound to a chair — not impossible to get out of if he was given the time. Laurel was barefoot and bound in a chair facing him about ten feet away. Her head rested on her right shoulder, her white dress had graying stains on the hem but she looked unharmed to his great relief. He didn’t know whether to risk calling out to her or not.

The music was still playing in the background.

_And time after time_  
_You'll hear me say that I'm_  
_So lucky to be loving you..._

“You didn’t have music, so I thought I’d help you out with some,” Cutter’s voice came from behind him, and Oliver tensed. The music cut out.

She walked around in front, studying him. “It’s interesting, isn’t it? Time after time, the two of you.”

“You- what do you want?” Oliver asked, remembering he needed to play dumb, like he hadn’t ever met Cupid before.

“I’m just trying to help you. See, the universe has tried its very best to protect you, to keep you apart. Near-death, other relationships. I would’ve thought you both had realized by now: Love is a bullet in the brain.”

“That’s not true.” As long as he kept her talking, it might buy time for the others to find them. Regret washed over him as he remembered he wasn’t wearing a tracker; he hadn’t put one in because he’d wanted his wedding — the real one — to be a normal day. 

Maybe he should have realized that wasn’t possible for him.

Still, the others had to be on their way. He chose to believe that. “Love is what inspires people to be the best of themselves. When we struggle to keep going or to find our way, love is a guiding light that brings us home. That has always been the case for me.”

“Well it wasn’t the case for the men I loved!” Carrie Cutter snapped. “You don’t think I tried to guide them the way she’s done for you? Love always ends in death. Always! And it should’ve ended for you nine years ago!”

She pulled a gun, leveling it at his chest. Oliver braced himself. At this distance, even with the bulletproof vest John had insisted he wear under his tux, he would suffer serious injury. Cracked ribs or worse. Assuming she didn’t just shoot him in the head instead.

“I’m sorry,” he tried. “Just — please don’t hurt Laurel.” This has all been his idea and she’d gone along with it, trusted him. He hadn’t deserved her help and she didn’t deserve this fate.

“Because you love her?” Cupid guessed with a sarcastic edge.

“She’s my oldest friend,” Oliver answered truthfully. He couldn’t really see her behind Cutter, but he hoped she would wake up in time to get away. John had gone over escaping binds with her and Thea that summer, his sister had mentioned. If he couldn’t buy time for himself, he would buy time for her. “And I do love her.”

Everything he had said in his vows to her had been true. She did inspire him and comfort him. Like he’d written in that letter, she was the best of him. She had guided him home so many times like Cupid had said. Was all of that, still, love?

“But you’ve hurt her, haven’t you? So many times.”

“Yes.”

Confusion and heartache tore at him. Faced with his own mortality, he didn’t know what to think or to feel.

“Then I’m helping her, you see?” She asked him, and like always Oliver could see she believed every word of her warped ideology. “If the love can’t be killed, then the lover can.”

A gun cocked, but Cutter was the one to freeze.

“You can help me by dropping your weapon.”

Oliver risked leaning to the side to see Laurel standing behind Cupid, both hands on her own gun. She was like a vision, one that he might have had on the island, in her white dress with tousled hair.

Cutter grit her teeth but lowered her weapon to her side. Laurel took it, then nudged the other woman into kneeling. She nodded to him, and he quickly freed himself before taking Cutter’s gun from Laurel to hold on their captor as she tied Cutter’s hands behind her back with the ropes she’d previously been bound with.

“Search her for a phone?”

“Already on it,” he said, patting down Cutter’s pockets. He located it in her coat. Oliver put in John’s number.

_“Hello?”_

“It’s me, John. We’re both safe.”

 _“Oliver,”_ John said in clear relief. _“Where are you calling from?”_

“Not sure. I’m hoping someone can use this signal to pinpoint our location.” It didn’t have to be Felicity. Even if it would be gratifying to know she was there and worried.

 _“I’m on it,”_ John replied, dashing the last of Oliver’s hope. _“We’ll send a squad car your way.”_

“Thanks.” He hung up and returned his focus to Cutter, who was watching them both with confusion and dismay.

“You planned this? Together?”

“Maybe not this specific part, but yes,” Laurel told her. “It was a setup.”

“But you weren’t lying. Either of you, I could tell. I listened to the whole ceremony,” Cupid insisted. She swung her head around to look at him. “You said you love her, even after everything.”

Oliver couldn’t find an answer.

Laurel did so for him. “Love comes in a lot of different forms, Carrie. It’s not black and white.” Her eyes strayed to Oliver as she added, “And it can cause pain, but only as much as you let it.”

He swallowed down a lump in his throat he hadn’t realized was there. The letter in her desk was at the forefront of his mind, and he needed to ask — but later, when they weren’t playing minders to a serial killer.

They were picked up by Lance’s second in command — and acting police chief in light of his suspension. Oliver stood next to Laurel as they watched Cutter being loaded into the back of a second squad car.

“Where’d you get the gun?”

“Thigh holster.” She raised her eyebrow at his surprised look. “What? I couldn’t exactly protect myself with a bulletproof vest in this dress.”

He found himself smirking in spite of himself. “Fair. You really are a cop’s daughter, you know that?”

She smirked right back.

It was long past daybreak when they arrived at the station where Thea, John and Lance waited. Whatever knockout gas Cupid had used must have been powerful stuff to keep them unconscious for that long, or perhaps the unbalanced woman simply hadn’t calculated the right dose. Another hour passed as they both had to give their statements. Laurel’s father was brought in briefly and asked to confirm their secret plan to catch Cutter, which he fortunately went along with even though they’d left him out of it.

They were left in an empty conference room with their family and friends to get their things together and leave.

“Your shoes got lost somewhere in the travel to Cutter’s base, so we couldn’t track you the whole way. I don’t think she realized the tracker was there or anything, just gave up on keeping them on your feet,” Thea explained as she handed the footwear over to Laurel.

“Okay, so next time it goes in the bra,” Laurel noted to herself. Oliver gave an awkward cough, which she and Thea looked askance at.

“No, you’re right. That’s probably a good idea,” he offered under their combined stares.

Thea nodded, satisfied with his revised statement, and Laurel sat to strap her shoes back on. 

“We’ll have to see what the cleaners can do about your dress.”

“Don’t worry about it, Speedy. I’m not going to need it again.”

Oliver looked down, his weight shifting to his heels as he felt himself hunch in. She couldn’t know she wouldn’t need it, could she? Not for certain, not unless...

“Been meaning to ask about that,” Lance said, walking over to join them and interrupting Oliver’s train of thought. “You went ahead and got yourself married, and I didn’t get to give you away?”

Laurel shook her head. “It wasn’t anything to get worked up about. The whole thing is off once we get the certificate back anyway.”

She looked at Oliver, all business. He couldn’t tell if she was happy or sad or just indifferent. But calling it off had been the agreed-upon plan — it was what he _wanted,_ he reminded himself — so he nodded. “Right, I’ll call the officiant.” 

“You might want to get on that sooner rather than later,” John prompted him. “It’s almost time for most businesses to be on their lunch.”

Oliver sighed, took out his phone and dialed, waiting a few rings. He paced away from the others, not quite facing them as he prepared for the conversation.

_“Hello?”_

“Hi, this is Oliver Queen. You officiated a wedding between me and a friend of mine last night.”

 _“Yes, I remember.”_ She sounded slightly puzzled by his wording. Most newlyweds didn’t refer to their spouses as a friend, he supposed. But that was who Laurel was to him first and foremost.

“I was hoping to arrange to pick up the certificate. It’s sort of a long story, but the wedding was a ruse to draw out Carrie Cutter for the SCPD. Now that she’s been caught, we, uh, we don’t really need it.”

There was a slight pause, but to her credit the woman responded soon enough. _“I’m not sure I follow, but I’m afraid I can’t help you. I left the certificate with the county clerk this morning.”_

“You took it to the clerk?” He echoed.

“What?” Lance asked.

Laurel’s chair scraped back as she stood. “Is it at the county office? Oliver, is it filed?”

 _“Yes, I left it with their office,”_ the officiant was saying.

“Um, thank you for your help. And sorry about- about all this. I’ll just call them,” he said into the phone, quickly hanging up.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Thea asked.

Laurel was already holding her phone out with the number for the county office pulled up, so he simply switched for hers and dialed them.

It took him a while to get through to the right person. “Hi, I was married yesterday and our officiant said she’d already turned the certificate over to your office. I was wondering what the status of that was.”

 _“Name?”_ “

“Oliver Queen. Dinah Laurel Lance, if you need the name of the- of the bride,” he said, stumbling over the words as he glanced nervously at her.

There were several minutes of silence as the woman he was speaking to searched for their information. _“Your certificate was filed this morning by your officiant, and everything was in order. Congratulations!”_

“Oh no,” Oliver blurted. He didn’t miss Laurel’s sharp look up at him, clearly asking for the details. Lance, Thea and John all looked extremely concerned.

 _“Oh no?”_ The woman echoed dubiously.

“Yeah, the thing is, there’s sort of a misunderstanding,” he explained on a slightly forced laugh. “We got married last night to help the authorities capture a serial killer.”

 _“You — I’m sorry? Oh, you’re from Star,”_ the woman on the other end of the line seemed to realize a moment later.

Oliver grimaced. “Yes we are. So, we weren’t actually _trying_ to get married. It wasn’t supposed to go through.”

_“Were you both aware of the conditions of this union? Neither of you entered into it with false impressions?”_

“No, neither of us were lied to.” For once he’d been totally truthful to his team.

_“Then I’m not sure what to tell you. Regardless of your intentions to help the law, the law says you are married.”_

Oliver was dumbfounded. True, this wasn’t his area of expertise — as a vigilante he had perhaps an even looser grip on legality than most — but there had to be _some_ caveat.

He turned to the woman at his side, the woman he had, technically, willingly married. His partner in this plan gone very wrong. Oliver held the phone out towards her, pleading. “Laurel?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I said at the start of this story that it would be two chapters, but chapter 2 was turning out far too long. So, this is now the second part of a three-chapter story. I promise the third installment will be out soon as it has already been completed. Many thanks to the Lauriver discord for acting as a sounding board and especially Okori for beta-reading both this and the next chapter. Thanks to you all for reading!

Laurel should have never agreed to this. What had she done to him?

“I’m aware the situation is unusual, but given that it is, couldn’t an exception for an annulment be made? I realize that’s asking a lot of the office.”

 _“It is. I appreciate your consideration on that,”_ the county clerk told her. _“But that’s the thing: we have no legal precedent for this sort of arrangement, and I’m not sure I want our office to set it. It opens up the laws to a lot of loopholes.”_

“Yeah, it does,” she couldn’t help but agree. Laurel wished she hadn’t bothered to put her shoes back on; all of this nervous pacing she was doing was starting to hurt her feet. But it was better than having to stand there and look at the others, especially Oliver.

He was counting on her to fix this, and it seemed increasingly likely she wasn’t going to be able to.

 _“You could challenge it in court,”_ the clerk offered. _“Have a judge set the precedent.”_

She could, but that would take time and money, two things Oliver didn’t have a lot of. She’d shoulder the cost if she had to, but her own schedule was stretched pretty tight as it was what with her day job and nighttime activities.

There was also the press to consider. Did they really want to make an even bigger deal out of this than it already was going to be? Just thinking of all the headlines she would come across was exhausting.

“I’ll go over our options with- with Oliver,” she told the woman. It wasn’t her place to call him her husband even if it was legally true. For the moment, anyway. “Thank you.”

When she hung up and turned around, she watched four hopeful faces sink. “The clerk’s hands are tied. Her recommendation is to bring our case before a judge.”

Oliver frowned, almost to himself. “That’s going to take a lot of time.”

“Even just to hear it, yeah.” She hates seeing the disappointment in his eyes on multiple levels, but for now she did her best to cast around for some other way. “Talk to Jean. Family law is her specialization. She might know something I’m missing.”

Oliver nodded, seeming to rally. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

“And I’ll go with you,” Thea said. “This is gonna take some explaining.” She left the room with her brother after shooting Laurel a quick, reassuring smile. Laurel couldn’t help noticing Thea had to practically guide Oliver. He looked to still be in something of a daze.

John left his spot standing against the wall. “Are you okay?” He asked her. When Laurel nodded, he continued, “We’ll get this figured out. For now, the important thing is that you're both safe and we stopped Cupid.”

“Right,” Laurel agreed. “You should get home, John. Get some rest.”

“You too.”

“I’ll make sure she does,” her father said. He and John exchanged nods before the latter of the two left. Her dad then turned to regard her with a look. “Are you? Okay?”

Laurel let out a sigh. She still wasn’t a huge fan of the people in her life doubting her ability for self-assessment. “Yes, I am.”

He shook his head. “Laurel, I may have just lost my badge, but I’m not stupid. You’re still in love with him, and now you’re stuck in this, this—”

“Loveless marriage?” She supplied. “Yeah, I know. And I know I _have_ to be okay, because if I’m not… if I let myself fall apart the way I might want to, or cry or say the things I’m really thinking, it’s just going to prove everyone who said I was too emotional or too much of a burden to do this job right. I have worked so hard to get to where I am, and I cannot lose that, dad. It’s all I really have.”

Despite herself, tears were pricking at her eyes, and she knew he could see them because he gathered her into his arms.

“Not to me,” he muttered into her ear. “You can cry all you want in front of me. I know how strong you really are. And I couldn’t be prouder of you.”

Laurel closed her eyes and smiled despite everything. A few tears leaked out, but she was stronger than she’d been. It was enough to ease some of the pounding pressure that had been building up behind her eyes.

“Let’s get you home.”

Her dad dropped her off at the back of the building, and she insisted he continue on to his own apartment to get some rest. Laurel took all three flights of stairs up to her floor, knowing it would be the surest way of avoiding anyone. She was sure she looked a mess by now in a dirty wedding dress with tangled hair and smudged makeup. What a wedding.

Laurel walked through her apartment, sighing as she noticed the taped-up window and the missing couch — probably taken for evidence. Nothing she wasn’t used to. She kicked her heels off one by one and stepped into the bathroom, unzipping her dress and letting it crumple to the floor. She’d pick it up at some point, get it ready for Thea to send to the cleaners and then shove it into the very back of her closet when they returned it to gain dust and be forgotten about.

She got in the shower and stood under the spray for far too long, but water was included in her rent so what did it matter? It felt better to just not have to think for a while. Eventually she stepped back out and dried off, grabbing her comfiest pajamas and throwing her bathrobe on top because she could. It was her home, and she was alone for the moment.

When she finally checked her messages, she found two from Thea.

_Jean says it looks like no dice_

_She’s also mad Ollie didn’t come to her about drawing up a prenup. For you or for Felicity_

Laurel let out a snort through her nose at that. Trust Jean to still be looking out for the Queen family interests — what little of them still existed.

She was just deciding whether to settle in an armchair or take an extremely early bedtime when there was a knock at her door. Laurel checked at the peephole and nearly dropped her head against the wood when she saw who it was. But she needed to answer, so she pulled open the door. “Felicity, I’m so sorry.”

Felicity held up a hand. “Don’t. I’m not here because I’m angry.”

“You’re not?” Laurel wanted to slap herself a minute later. It wasn’t kind to assume her friend would be angry. So she let her into the apartment instead.

“Nope. Well, not at you. I just wanted to get some facts straight. Oliver talked you into his crazy get-married-so-Cupid-will-try-to-kill-us scheme?”

“Well, she needed to be drawn out.”

“And somehow it turned into a real marriage?”

“Legally speaking. Cutter had us knocked out for a long time, and by the time we got back to the station, the officiant had taken the papers to be filed,” she explained.

“And you can’t just get it annulled?”

Laurel shook her head. “There’s no legal precedent for a couple who knowingly enters a marriage to catch a criminal. If one of us had lied to the other about that purpose, then maybe. But we both knew what we were doing. Oliver’s trying to see if his family lawyer can find a loophole, but...”

“We all know how much good Oliver trying does,” Felicity said with a nod.

“He really didn’t want to do this without you,” Laurel told her. She felt like she needed to say something to try and salvage this, at any rate. Especially since Felicity wasn’t coming at her with accusations she would’ve had every right to.

But her friend shook her head. “If I’d known he was going to do something like this, I would’ve stepped in. Well, not literally. I’m still glad I didn’t put myself in a position to get shot — frankly, I don’t think I ever want to be in that position ever again.” Felicity stepped forward and took her hands. “But I’m so sorry he dragged you into this. He — wow, is this the ring?”

“Oh, um, yeah.” She’d forgotten she was still wearing it.

Felicity tsked. “He made it from one of his arrows. He’s certainly good at penny-pinching for being a former billionaire.”

“He made it?” She echoed. She’d _thought_ the metal looked familiar, but he’d left the signature green color off of it. Laurel had to fight down a little flutter in her chest, knowing it was foolish and sentimental for no reason.

“So, we can’t get you out of this, but I am going to do my part to make sure Oliver doesn’t totally ruin your life. I’m having a press conference tonight to clear the air. The board tried to veto it — they try to veto everything. But you don’t have to do a thing,” Felicity told her.

“Felicity, thank you so much,” Laurel said. She felt so relieved the other woman didn’t hate her, that they could still be friends even with this new, strange arrangement.

“You are so welcome. Just try and take a me-day. Pajamas are good. If I were you I’d have something strong — but I totally understand why you wouldn’t. That was _not_ meant as a suggestion, please don’t do that.”

“There is no alcohol in the apartment so that would be pretty hard,” Laurel informed her, her smile just a little tighter than before.

“Okay, good. I should get going, don’t want to be late. Actually,” she paused in the doorway. “How long does it take to divorce if you can’t get an annulment?”

“We’d have to wait a year to actually file the paperwork,” Laurel told her truthfully.

“A year.” Felicity hummed to herself. “Well, all I can say is good luck with that.” With that, she left.

Well, that was one less cause for worry in her life. With Felicity giving a statement expressing her understanding of the situation, maybe it would all just blow over. She dropped into her armchair, resting her head on the back for a few peaceful moments.

Laurel’s phone buzzed again. She sat up and checked it.

_Just left Jean’s. Not really sure what to do with Ollie. Leaving him in the base rn seems...bad_

Laurel sighed. _Bring him over_

It wasn’t like people would be surprised to see him here. She could make up a bed on the floor in the living room since her couch had been taken.

She’d just finished bringing out the extra blankets in the linen closet and one of the pillows from her bed when the front door opened and Thea and her brother walked through. “Hey.”

“Hey. Where’s the couch?”

“Impounded.”

“Ugh.” Thea threw herself into the unoccupied armchair instead. “That was the longest day of my life. I totally forgot what listening to all that legal jargon does to my brain.”

Laurel privately thought Thea was hamming it up on purpose, and the knowing smile she exchanged with Oliver seemed to indicate he was aware himself. Then they both quickly glanced away.

“Uh, thanks for this,” he said after a beat too long of silence, walking over to his makeshift bed.

“No problem. I don’t know when you wanted to turn in, but, well, I was planning to watch something before bed.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. It’s… Felicity’s giving a press conference. About, well, this,” she told them both, twisting the handmade ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit. How had he managed that?

Oliver didn’t look like he knew what to say.

“You talked to her?” Asked Thea.

“She came over to tell me she wasn’t mad about it happening. I guess she wants to get out in front of the tabloids.”

“Good,” said Oliver after a beat. Some hope seemed to spark in his eyes. “That’s good.”

Felicity had gotten herself a spot at the top of the evening news and looked to be speaking just outside of Palmer Tech’s headquarters when they all gathered to watch. Thea had remained in the chair, so she and Oliver stood against opposite ends of the kitchen archway.

 _“Thank you all for coming on such short notice. I’ll admit, I was just as surprised when I woke up this morning to the news, but I’ve done some fact checking. So this is my statement on the record.”_ On screen, Felicity took in what looked like a nervous breath. _“Okay, first of all, I’m not angry about the situation. My relationship with Oliver officially ended last month, and I am_ not _interested in going back down that road. At all.”_

Laurel glanced to her right to see Oliver wince. She looked down, unsure what if any comfort she could provide to hearing that.

 _“I’m especially not angry at Laurel Lance, who is my friends as well as a dedicated public servant. I understand she agreed to helping the police catch a killer and that she was not expecting to wind up officially married. I hope the situation can be resolved soon and that she will be allowed out of this arrangement.”_ Felicity looked up from whatever she’d been reading off of and added, _“So that’s basically it.”_

 _“Ms. Smoak, could you answer some follow up questions?”_ A reporter in the crowd asked.

_“Um, I suppose so?”_

“Oh boy,” Thea said softly. Laurel could admit to her own worry; Felicity did not do the best at spontaneous question-and-answer.

_“What was the reason for your separation from Oliver Queen?”_

Laurel tensed. There was no way Felicity would think about mentioning William. But then, how was she going to explain it?

On screen, Felicity sighed. _“Look, I’ll be the first person to say that Oliver is a good man. But relationships… are not his area. He tries, really. But it’s hard for him, you know, with his past. The stuff from the island — when he was shipwrecked, remember? — it kind of makes him not great marriage material. I mean, Laurel would know that better than anyone and she’s stuck with him for a year now.”_ Felicity laughed briefly, then stopped when no one joined in. _“Um, but that’s — I should probably leave it at that.”_

She left the podium to calls of her name while Laurel watched in silent horror. Yes, William was still a secret, but what had Felicity just _done_ to Oliver’s reputation? And unthinkingly at that? She couldn’t even bring herself to look at him.

The feed cut to Bryan Green, their local news anchor, looking about as bemusedly shocked as Laurel had ever seen him. _“Not so much a hostile takeover as a hostile take_ down _by CEO Felicity Smoak of Palmer Tech, the former Queen Consolidated.”_

 _“Smoak served as Oliver Queen’s secretary before moving to the top job,”_ his female cohost added. _“I think we may have only witnessed the tip of the iceberg when it comes to Mr. Queen’s dirty laundry—”_

The television shut off.

“What the _hell_ was that.”

“Thea?” Her brother asked quietly.

For Thea was sitting coiled tight in the chair, her knuckles clenched white and shaking as she tossed the remote onto the side table. If Laurel didn’t know Thea had been cured of the bloodlust over a month ago, she might have started to worry.

“She just dragged your name through the mud on live television!”

“It- it wasn’t dragging—”

“Oliver, Thea’s right. What happened just now was basically slander, if not defamation.” Laurel still couldn’t quite believe what she’d witnessed. Sure, sometimes Felicity said things without thinking, but this had been far beyond an innocent slip of the tongue!

“She’s also putting words in my mouth that I would _never_ say about you.” Laurel wanted to be certain he understood that at the very least.

When she did look at him, he seemed lost more than anything. His eyes kept straying to the television as if hoping it would blink back on with a _just kidding!_ flashing across the screen.

“I don’t think she meant to do that.”

“Ollie, does it _matter?_ ” Asked Thea. “I mean, people are gonna think you’re some kind of basket case, and you’re not. What’d she even have to bring up the island for?”

“I think I’m gonna turn in,” Oliver said, walking forward and pulling back the blankets Laurel had lain on the floor.

“You’re sure?”

He just nodded, and there wasn’t much she or Thea could do in response. They all were exhausted and unhappy. She shut the lights off for him and retreated to her room.

Laurel returned to a very awkward atmosphere at work. Her coworkers and assistants all seemed wary of mentioning the elephant in the room, and Laurel wasn’t particularly interested in discussing it with them either. There was at least enough to do in the office that it left little time for small talk.

The base seemed to have that same oppressive air, unfortunately. None of them knew how to address what had happened, with the case against Cupid or with the press conference and their missing team member. Oliver was largely spending all his time indoors now, not wanting to face the scrutiny of the public, and Laurel was growing more worried for him by the day. He’d moved back into the base, however, so she could really only see to him during training or out in the field. If there was some way to give him a more permanent home with her and Thea without making it seem she was overreaching their established friendship.

“I’m gonna go see her,” Thea decided one morning while Laurel was still trying to puzzle out how to offer Oliver a drawer without making it sound romantic.

She blinked and looked up. “Her?”

“Felicity. She’s gotta put out a new statement. A written one or something where she’s not just saying the first thing that comes to her mind.” Her friend scowled.

Laurel didn’t totally disagree with that plan of action, but she did caution, “Try to approach it as a friend, Thea. Felicity feels hurt by what happened, and I’m not sure criticism is going to go over well.”

“She could stand to grow up about that,” Thea muttered under her breath, but sighed when Laurel held her gaze. “Fine. But only because I don’t want her blurting something about William.”

“Exactly.”

Unfortunately, the day Thea picked to talk to their old teammate happened to be the day a criminal named Brie Larvan chose to attack Palmer Tech, trapping both Thea and Felicity inside. She, John and Oliver were left to try and figure out a way to take on Larvan and her tech, which went badly when her swarm of robotic bees — because that was just life now — headed straight towards them.

Laurel’s view was obscured when Oliver suddenly lunged across in front of her. He took the hit for her.

They rushed him back to the base and Curtis Holt, who had accidentally found their base and learned their secret identities when trying to get help for his boss. Laurel hovered over Oliver writhing in pain on the medical table as Curtis tried to figure out what they might need to halt the damage being done to him.

“We can save him, right?” Her dad asked. He glanced at her. “Cause this is gonna look pretty suspicious if your husband ends up dead less than a month after your wedding.”

She scowled. “Not much Queen gold left for me to dig for, dad.”

He winced. “Right. Sorry.”

Curtis interrupted with a description of the needed cure, which just so happened to match the capabilities of her Cry device. Laurel handed it off to Curtis to make the necessary adjustments, gripping Oliver’s hand while she waited.

The feel of metal against her skin caused her to look closer at his hand; the ring was still on his finger. He must have pulled his gloves on over it when they suited up. Laurel’s own was sitting in a pouch on her belt beside the old photo, and her heart beat a funny rhythm as she stared at the little piece of jewelry he wore.

“We’re ready for you, Mrs. Queen.”

Laurel blanched. “I didn’t change my name.”

“Oh, sorry. Wasn’t trying to assume patriarchal standards. I mean, you go!” Curtis babbled with an awkward fist pump.

“It’s not that,” Laurel said shaking her head. “Mrs. Queen was Oliver and Thea’s mother. I would never dream of stepping into those shoes.” She took the device and fastened it back around her neck. “Now how is this going to save Oliver?”

She was directed to stand several paces away and signaled to use the device. For a long moment, Oliver’s face scrunched up in pain and only the knowledge that this was to save him allowed her to continue. Then he relaxed, and Curtis indicated to her to stop.

They strategized while Oliver slowly woke up and regained his bearings. “The good news is we now know a way to neutralize Larvan’s tech,” Curtis said.

“Alright, Laurel and I will head to Palmer Tech’s headquarters,” Oliver decided.

Laurel frowned. “Oliver, you nearly died on that table, and there’s no telling what would happen if Larvan gets another attack in. You need to rest.”

“I need to be there,” he insisted. His hands were twitching at his sides and every muscle she could still see since he’d yet to put on a shirt was tense.

“Actually, think you need to listen to your wife on this one, Oliver,” John said in total deadpan. She threw a look at him over her shoulder, sure that Oliver was likely doing the same.

“Can we have a minute?”

Their teammate, her father and Curtis moved into the side room. Laurel faced Oliver again.

“What’s this really about? You know John and I can handle it. With Thea already there, even more so. You would be telling any one of us to rest if it were us in your place.” It should’ve been her, she thought privately. If he hadn’t jumped in front it would’ve been.

“It’s not about who’s capable, it’s just…” he trailed off.

“I’m listening,” she told him. By the way his eyes briefly widened, she knew he caught the reference to his vows. She’d been unable to get them out of her head.

Oliver’s shoulders slumped. “If I’m not the one that goes, then it looks like I don’t care.”

Her eyes dropped to the ground. “About Felicity.”

“I know Thea thinks I’m crazy to still want to try — but Felicity, she’s just angry. She has a right to be. I can’t blame her for her words any more than I’d blame you or me for half the things we’ve said to each other.”

“No,” Laurel said, then forced herself not to sound so quiet, “I suppose not.”

“I can’t just give up. I need to be better than that, better than I have been,” he said, eyes pleading with her. “You understand.”

“I do.” God, she was going to grow to hate those words someday.

Oliver smiled for her, just a brief, grateful flash of teeth. Then he walked back to the table and picked up the top half of his suit.

“Ollie.”

He stopped and turned.

“You might want to leave the ring,” she told him, watching his eyes widen as he looked down at his hand. He must have just forgotten it was there at all. Laurel looked away as his footsteps faded back to the changing area.

She turned and went to find the others. “John, he’s going to need a ride.”

John sighed and left. Curtis watched with a puzzled frown.

“You’re not going with him?”

“This is something he needs to do.” She left the room again before he, or more likely her father, could say anything more to that.

It was stupid, she knew. It wasn’t like Oliver’s feelings for Felicity had changed, no matter what unfortunate things came out of Felicity’s mouth in the wake of their breakup. He was supposed to keep trying with her; that’s what Laurel wanted for him.

There were just things she wanted too, that were never meant to be.

\---

When Oliver reached Felicity’s office, Thea was already knocked out on the floor. He distracted Larvan and tried to talk her down, though instead of running Felicity used a lamp to short out Larvan’s robotic helper and the feedback knocked the woman out of commission as well.

“Lay down, bee-yotch!” Felicity crowed in triumph as Oliver came up to her side.

“Felicity.” Now that he was here, he didn’t know what he’d meant to say. It had been so clear in his head when he explained himself to Laurel; stop Larvan’s attack on Felicity, then reconnect with the woman he’d meant to marry.

She grimaced while turning towards him. “So… thank you. But in the future, I think it’d be best if John or Laurel handled my rescues.”

“Why?” Surely she didn’t doubt his ability in the field at the least.

“Aside from me not wanting to see you? Well, your sister made things perfectly clear.”

Oliver looked to Thea who had yet to stir. He took a step towards her and looked back. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, how I wasn’t allowed to say this or that about you? Even if it was all true?” She told him in rhetorical. “We can’t all look the other way like Laurel does and forgive you every terrible thing you do, Oliver.”

He blinked. She couldn’t mean that literally, could she? “William is not terrible, or a thing, Felicity.”

“Considering what family he’s part of, I wouldn’t be too sure,” she muttered.

Oliver had started to crouch down to check on Thea, but froze. “Excuse me?”

Felicity spun back around. “Oh, come on. You can’t pretend the Queens don’t have a track record!” A disbelieving laugh left her. “I mean, your father, your mother—”

“I gave you her ring,” he reminded her, his voice sounding cold to his own ears.

“Jury’s still out on whether Thea gets it from your side or Malcolm’s—”

“Don’t.”

Felicity paused mid-sentence and looked at him. “I’m sorry?”

He stood there, physically shaking. “I don’t care what you say about me. You have every right to criticize how I handled our relationship.” His hand twitched at his side, and he couldn’t remember being so angry and yet so terrified in one moment. “But my family is not a part of that. They are not for you to mock.”

Felicity gaped at him, like he’d spoken in one of the other two languages he knew instead of plain English. But on the floor, Thea groaned.

“Ugh, my head.”

“Hey, careful,” he cautioned, helping her sit up slowly. She’d come here to defend him, he realized, when he wouldn’t defend himself. His voice sounded suspiciously thick when he asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Eh, could be worse.”

“Clear!” A voice shouted in the hallway outside the office. The SCPD had to nearly be done with their sweep of the building. He needed to leave.

“Get checked out by a medic if they brought one, then come and meet me and John in the van,” he instructed his sister. His eyes lifted to Felicity. “I’ll pass on your request about future incidents.”

She took a step towards him as he moved to the window. “Oliver—”

The wind frowned out whatever else she might have said as he jumped and used a grapple arrow to swing out of sight of the building. He located John parked two blocks away and climbed into the passenger seat.

“We’re waiting for one more,” he said.

“So, how did it go?” It was obvious John wasn’t asking about the rescue mission.

Oliver stayed silent. His friend seemed to realize what that meant and wisely stayed silent as well.

After a few minutes, a phone buzzed. “The missus is checking in,” John remarked, probably hoping to lighten the mood. He showed Oliver his phone screen with Laurel’s message pulled up: _are you guys ok_

“Tell her we’re just waiting for Thea,” Oliver replied, then sighed. “And you all need to stop doing that.”

“Sorry,” said John, and he at least sounded it. “Look, hopefully someday we’ll all be able to laugh about this. Maybe at your real wedding.”

“You’re going to be holding your breath if you’re waiting for that,” he mumbled.

“Oliver, Felicity just needs time, like you said—”

Oliver sat up straighter in his seat and turned to his friend. “Has she ever said anything to you about my family?”

“Like what?”

“Like something you wouldn’t want said about your family.”

John shifted in his seat. “Come on, man…”

“John, I need to know.” If Felicity has said those things in the heat of the moment, maybe that was one thing. It was a thing he wasn’t happy about, but maybe he’d not made it clear enough that his family was off-limits.

“She never talked much about Thea before she joined the team, and you know, they were fine before this whole breakup thing.”

Oliver thought ‘fine’ was maybe oversimplifying things — with dread, he remembered a night in Nanda Parbat shortly before their relationship was consummated when Felicity asked him what Thea’s life was worth — but he set that aside.

“What about my mother?”

By the way John hunched in, he knew his friend had an answer he didn’t want to say. Or perhaps, didn’t want Oliver to hear.

“John.”

“Look, Oliver, you gotta admit that things with your mom were—”

“Trust me that you don’t want to finish that sentence.”

“She and Felicity never got along,” John told him.

Oliver nodded to himself, processing that. Even if that were the case, it didn’t have to mean what he was truly fearing. “So what did she say about her? If you don’t tell me, I’m just gonna assume the worst.”

“Is ‘diabolical’ the worst?”

Oliver winced. His mother had been no saint, Lord knew, but _that_? “And what prompted that?”

“What’s the point, Oliver—”

He spoke half over his friend. “When did she say that to you?”

John eyed him for a long moment. “It was at the memorial.”

His breath left him in one great rush, like he’d been punched in the gut. “How could she?”

“It was years ago, man. I mean, what has you asking about it now?”

“Because I’m realizing I didn’t think some things through,” he admitted, miserable at the truth of it. He’d given Felicity his mother’s ring while knowing at least a fraction of the tension that had existed between the two, simply because he had always thought of proposing with his mother's ring. And he’d proposed, and been planning to propose, so soon because he’d thought they were happy and understood each other after working on the team together. Had that really not been the case?

There was a tap on the side door and Thea slid it open a moment later. “Thanks for the lift. They don’t want me driving anything cause of my head. Hey, uh, did I miss anything while I was out?”

Oliver stared out the window but caught John’s reflection shaking his head as if warning her not to ask.

“Ollie, if I messed up, I’m sorry.”

He looked back around at her then. “You didn’t mess up, Speedy. You — mom would be proud of you.”

A tentative, if confused, smile graced her lips.

“Let’s get back,” he directed to John. The further he was from Palmer Tech right now, the better.

Oliver made sure to stick close to his sister as they entered the base. “Thea has a possible concussion,” he stated for the room’s benefit.

“I’m not showing any symptoms yet,” Thea said with a roll of her eyes.

“Still, we need to make sure you’re resting and taking it easy the next few days.”

“He’s right,” Laurel agreed. “The worst thing you can do right now is push yourself, Speedy. Was everyone else at Palmer Tech okay?”

“Yeah, except Larvan,” John replied with an awkward cough. “Felicity, uh, knocked her out. Hospital’s working on it.”

Oliver tried not to react to the mention of Felicity, but he noticed Laurel’s concerned gaze on him anyway.

He touched his sister’s shoulder. “Let me get changed, and then we can get you home.”

“Okay.”

Oliver accompanied them back to the apartment by some unspoken agreement. Laurel was gentle with his sister as ever the whole way back and while making sure she ate and got ready for sleep. He thought again about the possibility of her one day moving on — in a year from now, maybe, thanks to his screw-up — and building a family of her own. It was not unpleasant the way it had been when he’d contemplated it the first time; it was agonizing.

They sent Thea to bed early and he stood in her doorway for a while watching her.

“You could just stay.”

Laurel’s lips were pressed tight together when he turned around to find her watching him as well.

“Here?”

“Yeah. Not as — we can figure out some kind of arrangement. Something that works for the three of us.”

He looked past her for a long moment into her sitting room, his eyes landing on that desk with that letter inside. Then he glanced at her bare left hand where she’d removed his ring. “Is that something you’d want?”

She shrugged, her head ducked and not letting him get a good look at her face. “It just seems to make the most sense. At least until you want to find your own place.”

Oliver nodded, his throat bobbing against his will. “Right.”

She’d gotten a new couch since the last time he’d stayed over, so she made up a bed for him there with the blankets and one of her pillows. Just as she headed back towards the hallway, he called out to stop her.

“Laurel. Thank you for letting me go to stop Larvan. I… I needed to do that.”

She stood there, one hand on her wall and looked back. “Do you think things are going to work out?”

He held her gaze. “Not the way I was expecting, but, I hope so.”

“Then I’m happy for you.” She watched him shift a slight step forward, but said, “Goodnight, Ollie.” Then retreated to her room.

He sank onto the couch, his face landing in her pillow. Like the first night she’d lent it to him, it smelled faintly of her shampoo. Laurel had never used perfume, he remembered it was something she used to fight about with Sara because of their shared bathroom in their parents’ house. The faint lavender scent was a familiar memory, too. Guilt washed over him the same way it had the last couple weeks since this marriage began. Then anger and sadness at what he’d learned Felicity truly thought rose up as well. They warred within him, his face screwed up to try and hold it all in.

Why did he have to be so conflicted? He felt bereft now that the rush of being in love with Felicity had blown out as if it were nothing more than one of the candles sitting in Laurel’s fireplace. Surrounded by the comforts of Laurel’s home, he still felt the outsider, if only because he had refused them and run from them time and time again.

His sleep was fitful and filled with vague images of loneliness and his mother’s sad look. Oliver didn’t realize how late it was until he heard two people moving around the kitchen.

“...said Ollie kind of freaked out about it.”

“Well, you’re all very important to him. If I found out my fiancé had said something like that about my dad, I don’t know what I’d have done.”

“Your husband might have said an unflattering thing or two in the past, just putting that out there.”

Laurel snorted.

Oliver opened his eyes but remained lying still, listening.

“He’s entitled to it after all the things my father’s said in return. And they’ve made up for the most part.”

There was the _clink_ of metal against ceramic. A bowl? A plate? Some kind of utensil.

Thea’s voice sounded wistful. “Makes you wonder…”

“Don’t start with that,” Laurel scolded. Oliver frowned to himself.

“Well, why not?” What he thought was Thea’s chair gave a little scrape. She must have sat up with this new burst of energy. “I mean, yeah the proposal was lackluster and the rings were kinda homey—”

“I liked the rings. They were fine, I mean,” Laurel said. Her voice grew closer and he thought she must have been trying to move away from Thea’s scrutiny. “I still don’t know how he made it a perfect fit.”

Oliver thought of that afternoon, opening her case and borrowing one of the fingerless gloves she wore out in the field for measurements. He couldn’t help smirking to himself, amused that this had provided a sort of air of intrigue to the whole thing.

“I almost want to let him keep sleeping,” Laurel mused aloud. She had to be watching the back of the couch from the kitchen archway. He let his eyelids flutter closed just in case. “He must feel terrible. It’s hard, being in love and then suddenly it just goes…”

The faint amusement he still felt dimmed at those words. Laurel’s footsteps padded away.

Was that how it had been for her? Shock and anger that gave way to this sort of ache mixed in with bitter embarrassment over believing in a kind of lie? He never wanted to cause her that kind of pain. Was this why he couldn’t get a read on her true feelings about the situation they’d landed themselves in?

Yet Laurel had forgiven him, just as Felicity had said yesterday. He didn’t see how he could find it in himself to do the same. Maybe the wound was too fresh or maybe he just wasn’t as good of a person. Laurel was the better of them, after all.

She was kind and caring and warm. Steady instead of bubbly and giddy like a new relationship always was. He was reaching a point in his life where steady felt less like a dead-end and more like home. They knew each other, and there were few surprises left; even the times they surprised each other made sense after a moment’s thought as to what they knew.

He’d been horrified as to what he’d accidentally done when the county clerk had confirmed their marriage; yet the longer he thought about it, the more relieved he was that it was Laurel to whom he was married. It was temporary and platonic, but he thought it was exactly what he needed at the moment.

He’d lost himself in Felicity and their whirlwind courtship, and he needed to find himself again.

Over the next week, Oliver found himself spending a lot of his free time with Laurel. When she wasn’t at work, anyway. Those times were often when he kept Thea company and ignored her searching looks. His sister was a shrewd observer indeed.

And then work decided to throw Laurel a curveball. Ruve Darhk, newly appointed mayor with no one running against her anymore, approached her about taking the DA spot. Laurel, it turned out, didn’t know what to do.

She spoke to Oliver about it. The irony he was sure wasn’t lost on either of them about married couples making life decisions together. But that she wanted his advice touched him more deeply than he thought she was aware. Oliver told her earnestly that he felt the city needed her. What better way to make change on a structural level than having one of their own shaping policies? It had been part of his drive to campaign, after all.

“Well, it’s not the mayor job, but you would get to accompany me to the swearing-in ceremony if you wanted,” she told him with a smile that was only half-teasing. “Spouses are welcome.”

He ducked his head, a huff of a laugh leaving him and, when he looked back up, Laurel’s eyes were shining bright at his amusement. “I’d be honored.”

But Darhk had other plans for their time. Some of Malcolm’s separatists stole the idol they were guarding in the base and a prison riot began in Iron Heights. When Oliver asked, Laurel didn’t hesitate to suit up with them all again. Truthfully, he didn’t know what they’d do without her in the field as well as Felicity missing from the computers. But he wanted her to move forward with her life and her career. He didn’t want her stuck the way he was.

They fought their way through the prison riot until coming across Darhk, who captured Andy. With his brother’s life being threatened, it was John’s call to lower their weapons.

It was the wrong call.

Andy turned out to be a double agent, working for Darhk still this whole time. The bitter realization he had been right after all was only allowed a moment, as Darhk regained the last piece of his idol from Andy and his powers along with it. All four of them launched into action, but none of them were able to land a hit on Darhk before he had them either thrown back like Thea or frozen like he, Laurel and John found themselves.

Like always, he allowed himself to brag. This time about now knowing their identities. “It was really just a hop, skip, and a jump from the whole Diggle connection to you to your little sister to your _wife,_ ” he told Oliver with a slight chuckle. “But when you came to rescue that boy William, that look on your face, that was a father's look. I should have recognized it there and then.” If he could, Oliver would have clenched his fist. That man didn’t get to mention his son so casually.

And then Darhk approached Laurel. Malcolm claimed something about needing to leave, but it was distant to Oliver’s ears as he was powerless to do anything but watch. Darhk ignored him. “Ms. Lance, nine months ago, I made your daddy a promise. I told him what I would do if he betrayed me.”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed, and it was instinct to grab an arrow and fire before he even realized he truly was moving. How was he moving?

Darhk only barely caught the arrow that shot towards his head with a grunt.

“Impressive,” he noted with a look towards him, and Oliver felt the breath stutter in his chest as he was frozen again. “Now where was I? Oh, yeah. I want you to give your father a message from me. I want you to tell him—”

His arm moved back, the arrow in his grasp—

 _No,_ Oliver thought desperately. _Please, whatever that was before. I can’t lose her, not her. I made a vow!_

He was no longer in two minds; the doubt was gone. And as he drew breath, Oliver knew what was truly in his heart.

\---

Laurel wanted so badly to move away from the vile man crowding her space. But she physically couldn’t thanks to the magic at his disposal, and a part of her knew it was about to kill her.

Darhk pulled back the arm holding Ollie’s arrow. She’d seen the damage it could do, knew about the bodies they’d once collected in the morgue and how much restraint he used now to not add to that number. Darhk, with that malicious glint in his eyes, would never show that kind of restraint—

A fist collided with his face. Oliver’s. He’d broken out of the freeze hold somehow a second time, and Darhk staggered across the room with the force of the blow, Oliver following him. His teeth were bared in a snarl and his eyes blazing, the same look that had paralyzed her in this very prison four years ago.

This time, Laurel gasped as her breath was returned to her and she staggered back. With Darhk’s concentration broken, she was free.

John was, too, and he’d wasted no time in charging Andy, the brothers falling to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Across the room, her eyes met Malcolm’s. Then she turned and looked at the idol.

She was closer.

“Don’t—”

Laurel raced to it, heaving it off the table and onto the ground. It lay there perfectly intact. With a growl she took out her nightstick and hit it with a similar lack of result. God, she was so sick of magic.

She heard Oliver make a strangled sound and froze for a moment as she watched Darhk suck the air from him.

In sheer desperation, Laurel switched her Cry device on and screamed louder than she’d ever tried before.

Everyone flinched away from it. But more important to her was the crack in the idol that developed along the line where the last piece had connected with the rest of it. With vicious pleasure, she took her nightstick and slammed it down on that piece.

The idol cracked.

There was a gasping sound from Oliver, then a grunt as Darhk struck him again. Her father’s tormentor spun towards her with murder in his eyes—

A choking sound escaped him as the green-tipped arrow pierced through him from behind. Darhk fell to a knee and then onto his face as the arrow was pulled out. Behind him, Oliver watched Darhk draw his last breath with a grim expression.

Then his eyes raised to hers, shame evident. “I couldn’t let him…”

She was across the room in seconds and threw her arms around him. “Thank you.” She could only imagine the turmoil he had to be in right now. “I know you wanted things to be different, but thank you.”

There was a clatter as a black-tipped arrow landed on the ground.

“Switch them,” Malcolm said when they both turned to look at him. “An unknown assailant with a grudge against Mr. Darhk. The public will readily believe it. No need to sully the Green Arrow’s positive reputation.”

She shook her head. He really thought he could keep playing both sides? “You think that makes up for helping him do all of this?”

“Try and stop me if you think it doesn’t.” He turned and walked from the room.

Laurel started after him, but Oliver took her hand, pulling her to a stop. “We need to regroup.”

As much as she hated it, he was right. Thea was still unconscious and John hardly looked present as he stood there with a bloody fist staring down at his barely breathing brother.

The cops got the remnants of the riot mostly under control. There were likely a number of escapees who would need to be rounded up, especially if they returned to their old ways. But the worst had been avoided.

They gathered Thea up and led John back to the base, where her father was already waiting. When he learned what had almost happened, he hugged her so tight she nearly couldn’t breathe. Then he turned and did the same to Oliver, who looked almost comically surprised.

“Thank you. Not sure I’ve ever thanked you to your face all these times — but you.” Her father pulled back and kept his hands on Oliver’s shoulders. “I’m glad, you know? After all these years, it feels good to say that. Who would’ve thought, right?”

Oliver himself looked to be struggling to hold in his emotions. “Certainly not me.”

Her dad clapped his shoulder, then reached for the watch on his wrist, undoing the clasp. “I want you to have this.”

“Quentin—”

“Don’t. It’s a tradition for a young man to get one, and, well, I know you can’t have your own father’s. I don’t think either of my girls would mind.” Her father looked to her as if to check, and Laurel nodded, smiling and forcing back the tears that wanted to threaten. It had been an emotional night, that was for certain, but she was happy to see it end this way.

“I, I don’t know what to say,” Oliver responded after a moment.

“Then just take it. You’ve made yourself part of this family by hook or by crook anyway.”

Laurel couldn’t quite stop a short laugh, and the two of them followed. Oliver accepted the watch and gave her father a hug in return. That feeling she was dreaming was back, especially as Oliver hugged her next, then left his arm wound loosely around her as he said, “Thank you both for letting me be.”

It was decided they were all taking a couple nights off for the time being. Thea had been knocked around for the second time in as many weeks, and John was still processing the fact that his brother now sat in an ARGUS cell. Laurel was just glad she was alive.

Yet at the same time, the riot had shown her exactly why she couldn’t give the life of a vigilante up. She needed to be out there with her loved ones, making sure she had their backs the same way they had hers. If she hadn’t been the one Darhk had attacked, but someone else. If she’d heard it on the news later — _Oliver Queen dies in prison riot…_ she couldn’t bear the thought. She couldn’t just sit behind a desk trying to do good while the real good was being done out in the streets.

With that thought in mind, she headed down to the base after work for some training. Only she noticed right away as she entered the space that the leather jacket of her suit was missing from her case.

“What—” Unease rising, Laurel turned to spot Oliver sitting at one of the tables, her jacket in his hands. His shoulders were hunched and she tensed in response.

“Oliver? What are you doing with that?”

He looked up at her. “We’re getting you a new suit.”

Laurel blinked. “What?”

“I tested it,” he said, gesturing behind him at a mannequin with several holes ripped into where the lower abdomen would be. Then he raised her jacket to show off the tears in it. That he’d purposely made in it.

Laurel’s fists clenched and she marched forward to rip it out of his hands. “That jacket was given to me by my _sister,_ Oliver. You had no right—”

“I have the right to make sure you’re safe,” he insisted, standing to his full height. “As your friend, as your—” for a long moment he struggled for a word. “—partner, it’s my responsibility.”

“I never asked you to be responsible for me!”

“And you shouldn’t have to!”

Laurel froze.

Oliver squeezed his eyes shut, drawing in and letting out a breath. Then he repeated, softer, “You shouldn’t have to. You were right, what you said about me not respecting you joining the team at first. And part of that was that I didn’t think about you having to put this together all by yourself without the materials I or the others use. But I should have. I… haven’t been the kind of support you deserve.”

“Oliver,” she said. For some reason, she felt that there was more to this than the suit. That there were things he was holding back from saying.

“Please let me be that support now. Let me try. I’m ready to be.” His gaze was so intense on her she nearly forgot what they were even talking about.

“Okay,” she managed, a little shaky. “What happens now?”

“Now, we take a trip.”

When they informed their other two team members of their intent to go to Central City, John calmly assured them Star would be kept under close watch. Thea had a far cheekier response: “Yeah, go have fun. It’ll be like a little honeymoon!”

Laurel had rolled her eyes at that. “What are we telling the Flash team about, um.” She wiggled her left hand, regardless of the lack of ring there, in demonstration. “Would they even know?”

“From what I understand, Barry and the others have been very busy,” Oliver told her. “But they probably heard the news.”

Sure enough, the first thing that happened when they entered the cortex of STAR Laboratories fresh off a high-speed train to Central was Cisco looking up with a big grin. “Newlyweds are here!” The next instant his smile dropped when Oliver leveled his best unimpressed stare. “Sorry, had to. Had to.”

Barry and a woman she was unfamiliar with entered the cortex. “Oliver, Laurel, hey!” Barry looked back to the woman Laurel didn’t know. “Iris, you’ve met Oliver. And this is Laurel. The Green Arrow and the Black Canary.”

“So the vigilantes are also Star City’s most surprising item,” Iris remarked. “You should have heard Bear complaining he wasn’t invited.”

“I wasn’t — that wasn’t what I said. I just thought, you know, you might want to talk,” Barry said, mostly to Oliver. “But that’s gonna need to wait for a minute. Cisco, Harry says everything’s ready.”

Cisco nodded and picked up what looked like a lightning rod. “Okay, yeah.”

“Ready?” Laurel asked.

“We’re running sort of an experiment. It’s to get back Barry’s speed.”

“What do you mean, get back his speed?” Oliver asked with narrowed eyes.

“I guess we both haven’t had time to talk about things,” Barry admitted with chagrin. “Once we get this done, Cisco can look at your suit, Laurel.”

“Okay.” She and Oliver exchanged a look as Barry and Iris left the cortex, silently deciding to follow. Whatever experiment this was, they wanted their eyes on it.

Down in the basement levels of the building, Barry was strapped into what nearly looked like some kind of torture device. Three older men waited downstairs as well with two at different sets of controls. Oliver exchanged a nod with the man she thought might be Iris’ father.

Barry gave the signal he was ready, and the machines were started up. A set of grille doors closed in front of him. Then one of the men announced they were injecting him with chemicals.

Barry gave a sudden jerk and grunt, and Laurel reached for Oliver’s hand on instinct. He squeezed it back.

Iris was protesting, and truthfully Laurel felt she agreed with her even with the calm arguments the man in charge of this experiment was supplying.

“I’m okay, Iris,” Barry called out, though his breathing was labored.

“We have to trust he knows what he’s doing,” Oliver murmured. But it was clear to her he was trying just as much to convince himself.

Barry continued to jerk around violently, and when the second man at the controls warned them all he was going into some kind of shock, Oliver’s restraint broke.

“Get him out of there.”

“I’ve initiated the collision, it’s too late,” the man in charge said. “You’d have to break this entire machine.”

“Then break it!”

Barry’s whole body seized up with electricity, his eyes bulging and mouth gaping, and Laurel reached into the bag at her side for her cry device.

“Consider it done,” she told Oliver, switching it on immediately after. If Cisco’s tech was strong enough to fracture Darhk’s idol—

But her Cry hit some kind of field that pushed back, knocking her off her feet.

“Laurel!” Oliver rushed to her side, cursing as he tried to undo the device now sparking at her neck.

At the same time, Iris gave a horrified scream: “ _Barry!_ ”

Laurel struggled to sit up with Oliver’s help as Cisco ran in. “It worked! Is everyone okay?” He looked around in dawning horror at all their shocked faces. “What happened?”

The metal grilles opened to show what they already knew. Barry was gone. Only some smoking remains of the red Flash suit showed where he had once been.

“What have you done to my son?” The second of the scientists demanded of the man who’d run the experiment. He gave no reply, staring in stunned silence at his own defeat.

A streak of blue lightning turned into a man in a full bodysuit and mask. He picked up the remnants of Barry’s charred suit. 

_“You thought you could give the Flash his speed back? Well done.”_

He looked up at all of them, and paused, his head tilting as he locked eyes with her for some reason.

Then there was a flash of lightning and Laurel slammed against the wall, a clawed hand around her throat. She tried prying it off with both of her own.

“Laurel!” Oliver was standing with the others, watching in horror.

The masked figure seemed to be scrutinizing her. _“Doppelganger,”_ he growled low in his throat. His other hand raised, vibrating with speed.

Laurel’s breath hitched.

Sound exploded from her, with such force that her head knocked back into the wall. The speedster in dark blue disappeared; she didn’t know where to because her eyes rolled up into the back of her head. She slid down to the floor, her body jerking as the device sparked and shocked her like a malfunctioning taser.

Arms came around her, propping her up so that her cheek rested against a broad chest. A calloused hand cupped her other cheek.

“Laurel? Laurel!”

But she couldn’t find her voice to tell him not to worry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, everyone, we have at last the final chapter to this little idea! I’m so glad people have enjoyed this story and have really appreciated all the feedback. Thanks for reading!

Oliver’s heart plummeted as Laurel’s eyes slipped shut.

“Laurel, come on! You have to stay with me.”

The device stopped sparking and he finally managed to rip it off of her. Then he went back to cradling her head.

“Please, Laurel.”

Someone crouched in front of him. “Oliver, wasn’t it?” The only man he didn’t know here, but he had some of Barry’s features. God, Barry. He couldn’t believe his friend had just… disintegrated in front of his very eyes. “I’m a doctor. Let’s get her upstairs so we can see what she needs.”

Mutely, he nodded and picked her up. The last time he’d held Laurel like this, he’d been carrying her over the threshold of her apartment. He wished he could go back to that time, hold it close and appreciate it like he should have.

Dr. Allen directed him to one of the lab rooms. Oliver was forced back as the man felt around Laurel’s throat where an ugly bruise had already formed in the shape of the speedster’s hand. His own fists clenched, hating the powerless feeling he always got going up against what amounted to practically gods. Even if he’d had his bow and arrows on him, he wouldn’t have risked handing over a weapon the way he’d nearly done to Darhk mere weeks ago.

“We’ll need to run an x-ray, and then I need to help Wells with his daughter,” Barry’s father said. Oliver nodded numbly. He didn’t even know this new Wells had a daughter, or why she needed help.

“You might want to contact her next of kin, if any of them are aware of all this. In case some decisions need to be made.”

“Decisions?” It hit him a moment later, and Oliver swallowed. “I’ll call her father. But, um, please go forward with the x-ray and anything else you need to do until I can reach him. I’m her husband,” he said, voice cracking a little on the word. “I’ll take responsibility.”

Dr. Allen squeezed his shoulder, his eyes full of kindness and old pain. “I’ll do everything I can for her.”

“Thank you.” He was left in the room with Laurel after a short time, able to reflect back on what had happened for the first time.

Laurel had attempted to use the Cry device to destroy Wells’ machine like Oliver had requested, only it had gone wrong. She’d been struck by something, some kind of energy. But she’d seemed mostly unharmed as he’d helped her up off the ground.

Then that other speedster had appeared. At first to mock them for Barry’s demise, then singling Laurel our for some reason. He’d looked about to kill her.

But Laurel had reacted on some kind of instinct, screaming in his face. Only it hadn’t been like her normal Cry. It had sounded harsher, louder, and in that short burst he’d thought he’d _seen_ something like rippling air. 

The speedster had escaped long before it had had the chance to hit him, and Laurel had sunk to the floor, her device sparking with that same energy she’d been hit with. Now Oliver didn’t know what to think.

He needed to call Quentin. He knew that, but he just couldn’t bring himself to. How did he explain that after surviving Darhk, Laurel was now suffering some unknown injury thanks to a mistake of their allies?

“Hey, any changes?” A voice asked quietly in the doorway. He looked up and saw Cisco standing there with red-rimmed eyes.

“No. I think Dr. Allen’s waiting on an x-ray and some bloodwork.”

That got a nod. “I’m gonna work on her suit, cause she’ll need it,” Cisco told him with confidence Oliver suspected the engineer was forcing himself to feel. “But, uh, I found some personal items in her belt she might want someone to hang onto.”

Oliver reached out a hand to take what Cisco passed to him, only for his eyes to water anew upon seeing the items. The ring he had made her and the photograph he had once left behind. The letter in her desk wasn’t forgotten, wasn’t a mistake. She had kept them for herself.

He turned away from Cisco, a silent request to be alone that was fortunately granted. He took up Laurel’s hand in his, pressing the knuckles to his lips.

“Please wake up,” he murmured to her. There was so much he needed to say to her.

He was a coward. He should have asked her the moment he found the letter, not let it hang there between them this last month.

But he’d worried about being wrong. He’d worried about being right, too. How could Laurel still love him after everything? How did he even deserve it?

He didn’t, but in equal measure, Laurel deserved to be happy. If that happiness included him, how could he keep depriving her of that just to feel he was being appropriately punished for all the terrible things he had done in his past? All he’d ended up doing was hurting them both and seeking solace with a woman he truly hadn’t known as well as he’d thought he did.

“I’m so sorry,” he told Laurel. They could’ve had years by now, they could’ve been married without any pretext of needing to catch a criminal.

Movement in the doorway had him looking up again. Dr. Allen was back.

“I have some answers, but it’s caused a lot more questions. Cisco tells me she isn’t a metahuman.”

Oliver nodded. “That’s right.”

“Was she ever tested for the gene?”

“Not that I’m aware. She wasn’t in Central when the particle accelerator exploded. She’s never had any kind of powers.”

Dr. Allen nodded. “Then we might never know for sure, but the fact is she now has an active meta gene. If it was dormant before, I have to assume that the interaction with- with the reattempt to give Barry his speed triggered it.”

Oliver tried to wrap his head around it. Laurel, a metahuman? “And that’s what that was, when that other speedster attacked her?”

“We won’t know for certain until she wakes. Have you called her father yet?”

Oliver shook his head. “I was meaning to. I will. Um, thank you, Dr. Allen. Please get some rest if you can. I can’t imagine…”

But the doctor shook his head. “If I stop moving now, all I’ll be able to see is — well. I need to go check on Jesse again. Excuse me.”

Oliver say there for another minute or two, then got out his phone. He couldn’t keep putting it off.

Quentin picked up after a couple rings. “Oliver? Something the matter?”

“Yeah. Um, it’s Laurel. She was affected by this, uh, this experiment the Flash’s people were running. She’s stable but she’s not woken up yet.”

“Well, what- what kind of experiment? I mean what kind of effects are we talking here?”

Oliver took Laure hand again with his free one as he explained, “They’re not totally sure yet, but it had to do with the particles that, um, that create metahumans.”

There was silence for a moment on the other end. “Are you trying to tell me what I think you’re trying to tell me?”

“We won’t know for certain until she wakes up what’s happened. They don’t know when that would be. If you wanted to come out here—”

“I can’t. Wouldn’t look good to the IAB if I leave the city while under investigation,” he explained, regret clear in his voice. “Keep me updated. And look after her, alright?”

“I will. I—” He nearly spoke the words he was thinking, the words he hadn’t let himself say for such a long time. But it wouldn’t be right. He wanted her to hear it first.

“I care for Laurel very much,” he said eventually instead. “If I could have prevented this—”

“I know you would’ve. Listen, just…” Quentin didn’t speak for a moment; it seemed like he was weighing his words. “When all of this marriage business is over with, in a year or however long there’s left, you’ll be a standup guy about this, right?”

His heart missed the next beat. “What?”

“I mean you’re not just gonna disappear this time, right? Cause Oliver, I respect the man you’ve become. Don’t fall back on old habits.”

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t.”

“Well, good. You know, I may not have gotten to walk my girl down the aisle—” the slightest hint of ire in his tone made it clear this was something that, fake wedding or not, bothered him still. “—but I’m gonna be there for her every step of this divorce.”

Oliver swallowed. “I understand, Quentin.”

“Good. You get back to watching over her.”

“I will.”

He sat there for a long time, thinking over that last part of the conversation. Everyone, including Laurel, was under the assumption that their marriage had an expiration date. Even if she still cared for him that way, loved him, that didn’t necessarily mean she wanted to remain tied to him legally the rest of their lives, did it? She might not even want to be with him at all. Love didn’t fix all the things that he knew were wrong with him or the ways that he’d hurt her in the past.

He stayed by Laurel’s bedside as she continued to sleep, listening whenever Dr. Allen came back with some new piece of information or to run a basic check on her condition. Oliver was shown the x-ray which revealed an oddity in her larynx, one the doctor wanted to monitor to make sure it didn’t negatively impact her breathing.

He was told to get some rest, which for him meant leaving to make use of the bathroom before returning to sleep in a chair. Laurel remained unconscious through the night as far as he could tell. By morning he knew he needed to find something to eat soon, but he didn’t know what the lab had and didn’t want to head out into the city for that long. Not until something changed in her condition for the better.

He checked the news for Star. Nothing out of the ordinary and no mention of the team, which likely meant Thea and John had done little more than the basic patrol and interceding on any small crime they witnessed. One name in a headline jumped out at him.

_Palmer Tech ousts Felicity Smoak as CEO_

Against his better judgement, he clicked on the article. It contained statistics about the company from the last few quarters, the last one Ray had been in charge of versus when Felicity had taken over. From the little he knew of business, even he could admit it didn’t look good. If anything, it mimicked his own numbers as CEO. There was also a statement from the head of the board at the company.

_“Our decision was based on a number of factors, but simply put, Ms. Smoak had not the experience nor the decorum to helm a company at the forefront of the age of technology such as Palmer Tech.”_

Oliver winced. He was sure that had to sting. As upset as he had been with her the last few weeks, a part of him could look back on the friendship that had existed before their rushed romance, and he wondered if he ought to reach out. Then he remembered that all other evidence pointed to the fact that Felicity had blocked his number. He exited out of the article with a sigh instead. Maybe John would be able to do something for their former teammate, or Laurel might have ideas once she woke up.

Trying to focus on more productive things, Oliver borrowed some graph paper and started sketching out a few rough ideas and designs. He knew he needed arrows that couldn’t readily be turned into weapons for the use of his enemies, but how to still make them effective when he used them? Tranquilizers like John sometimes fired, or perhaps blunted tips like rubber bullets? He thought of his improvised use of a boxing glove to soften the blow when he’d once fought Laurel’s old teacher and smirked to himself. The idea of being able to punch someone without even being near them had a certain appeal hard to deny… he’d have to see what Cisco made of some of these rough concepts.

At some point during the wait, he received a call from an unknown number. He ignored it. Sometime later, Thea called.

“Hey, I just heard from the city council. They say they tried contacting you?”

“I’ve been — it’s been busy,” he said.

“Okay, well, they said it was kind of important. You know, Ruve’s office has been kind of quiet lately, since…”

“Yeah.”

“I’d call them back as soon as you can. How’s the new suit coming?”

“It’s, um, I haven’t seen it yet,” he said, glancing out at the empty hallway. He hadn’t seen Cisco for a while now. Or much of anyone.

“Ollie, is everything okay?”

He paused. How much did he really want to get into this?

Voices outside in the hall drew his attention. “Uh, let me get back to you on that. I’ll talk to you soon, Thea.”

Oliver hung up and started to stand, only to sit back down hard when Barry walked through the archway.

“Laurel’s in here?”

“Barry?”

His friend grinned at him, full of life. “Yeah. Sorry about the scare.” He then walked to Laurel’s bedside and touched her hand. A crease formed between his eyebrows. “I was hoping since it worked on Jesse... it must have been a different set of particles that hit her. She probably just needs more time to adjust.”

“You died.”

Barry shook his head. “No, just ended up in the speedforce. Iris and Cisco got me out.”

Oliver wanted to protest and say that was impossible, but then he was talking to a man he knew could time travel by running fast. He buried his face in his hands.

“I’m glad you’re back, I swear, this is just… a lot.”

“Yeah. But it’s gonna be okay. Zoom, I know I can stop him now. And Laurel will be fine, too.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because she’s a fighter. She wouldn’t be on your team if she wasn’t.” Barry was watching him with an easy smile when he looked back up, and his eyes were kind as he added, “Most people wouldn’t marry someone for the safety of others, but that’s just the kind of people you both are.”

Oliver took out Laurel’s ring, staring down at it rather than respond.

“You look like there’s a lot weighing on you, Ollie.”

He sighed. “Yeah. I don’t expect you to understand. For as long as you’ve known me, I’ve tried to ignore it or downplay it or — I don’t know. But Laurel, she’s…” He looked at her face, peaceful and so, so beautiful in sleep.

“She’s your first love.”

He turned back to Barry, who didn’t look the least surprised.

“Joe said once, it never really goes away. And maybe this whole wedding thing got away from you before you realized, but Oliver, all you can really do now is try.”

“I’ll screw it up.”

“Maybe,” Barry admitted. But his newfound confidence returned in the next instant as he added, “But that’s why they say for better or for worse. She’s stuck through it this far, right?”

Oliver felt himself return it with his own soft smile.

Barry was soon called away, leaving Oliver to those thoughts.

If he wanted — if he _dared_ — a life with Laurel, the life she had believed they could have once, all he could do was try. It was as simple as that. He couldn’t ask for more than she might be willing to give, but he could ask. Someday, once he had proven himself worthy of it. And she deserved to be asked, to have a say in this.

If she would only just wake up.

\---

Laurel couldn’t remember if she dreamed at all or not. All she remembered was Oliver’s voice calling her name, and then the feeling of a steady presence at her side through the span of time she’d spent in darkness.

Now she registered other things. A mattress at her back. The brightness of fluorescent lights even behind her eyelids and thin sheets covering her.

She could still hear his voice not far away.

“I understand that the decision needs to be made quickly, but I can’t leave Central City until I know my wife is okay. She’s in the hospital.”

Laurel licked at dry lips as a warm feeling spread through her body. A thumb rubbed over the back of her hand and her fingers twitched, gripping onto the hand loosely holding hers.

“Excuse me, I need to go,” Oliver said. She heard him shift and lean closer. “Laurel?”

“Hey.” She grimaced and coughed, hoping to clear up some of the hoarseness in her voice. “How long was I out?”

“Almost two days.”

Her stomach growled. She chanced a sheepish glance at Oliver, who smiled softly.

“I think there’s a couple things I need to take care of, actually,” she decided. He helped her out of the bed, holding her steady when the room swam for a moment. Then she walked on her own to a small bathroom to the left.

After taking care of that and splashing some water in her face, she evaluated a couple things. They’d been here longer than they meant to, she’d been hit by some weird science stuff and then attacked by a speedster before something else happened and Oliver was putting off important phone calls to post sentry at her bedside. And calling her his wife. Her cheeks turned a little pink in the mirror and she narrowed her eyes at her reflection.

“Get a hold of yourself.”

“Laurel? Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she called back through the door. Then she opened it. “Just could really use a shower.”

He nodded in commiseration. “Barry’s father will be here in a minute to check a couple things and explain what they think happened.”

Sure enough, Dr. Allen soon arrived. “Hi, Laurel. It’s good to see you awake. I’m Henry. I don’t think we had the chance to get introduced before.”

“That’s okay. Sorry to just pass out on all of you like this.”

He shook his head. “Sometimes when the body goes through significant trauma, it needs time to rest without interruption.”

“So what exactly has happened to me?”

“Well, what we _know_ is that you have, whether as a result of the incident two days ago or some earlier incident, developed an active metahuman gene. We can’t know for certain how that will choose to manifest, but I believe we may have seen a hint of it when Zoom attacked you. Like a survival mechanism kicking in.”

“Okay. And it’ll just keep coming back?”

“Yes.”

She sat on the edge of the bed, trying to process that. Her DNA had been changed in such a level that she had, for lack of a better term, _powers._ How crazy was that?

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need to in order to figure this out.”

“No, we need to get home.” She looked back up at Oliver. “Who were you talking to on the phone?”

“A city councilman. Ruve, um, she’s disappeared. Must have taken her daughter and left the city.”

“Oh.” She supposed it made sense. With her husband dead, whatever plan they had had was effectively defunct. Then it hit her. “They want you to step in?”

“I don’t know yet. They want to talk to me in person.”

“Then we definitely need to get home. Thank you so much for all your help, Dr. Allen.”

On their way out, Cisco promised to send her the new suit as soon as possible. Seeing as how busy the Flash team seemed to be these days, she didn’t mind so much. And she had a feeling she was benched from the field until they figured out what this meta gene situation meant.

Thea got Oliver into a suit and off to City Hall as soon as they returned while Laurel headed over to her father’s after he sent an invite to lunch.

Though that lunch wasn’t just for the two of them.

“Sara!”

Her sister grinned wide as Laurel moved to embrace her. “Hey, I’m glad you made it back when you did. I can’t stay long.” Then Sara pulled back, grabbing onto Laurel’s left hand. “Well, where is it?”

“What?”

“The ring! Dad told me all about your sham wedding. I’m proud of you, that’s like something I’d have done in college.”

Laurel shook her head. “It’s really nothing.”

Sara snorted. “Look, the last person you’re gonna fool with that is me. I mean, I’m glad you both finally got your act together even if it was totally by accident. Really wasn’t sure what was going on with him and Felicity when I got brought back, you know? Don’t get me wrong,” Sara added, both hands raised. “Felicity’s cute, but Ollie just doesn’t _do_ cute, you know? Especially now.”

“So you’re glad the playing field to Felicity is clear?” Laurel remarked, partly to deflect.

Sara gave an easy shrug. “Hey, if she’s up for it. But I’ll talk to her some other time. You tell me what’s going on with you.”

Laurel let herself be pulled down onto their dad’s couch with Sara but insisted, “Nothing. I’m serious. It was a sham wedding like you said, and once the year is up it’ll be over. I’ve been meaning to start preparing the papers, but things have just been busy.”

“Uh-huh.”

Laurel rolled her eyes. “They really have. But I’ve got time now so I’ll get started on it. Maybe I’ll have them ready for Oliver to sign for his birthday.”

“Some gift,” Sara muttered.

“It would be. It doesn’t matter that things didn’t end up working out with him and Felicity, that doesn’t suddenly mean he wants to be married to me.” Even if he’d been calling her his wife on the phone and waiting at her bedside while she was an invalid. Even if he was living in her home and making them dinner most nights. She couldn’t let herself get caught up in those things, because the minute she did would be the minute they were all taken away. Laurel was sure of it.

“If you say so,” her sister finally sighed, but she perked you a moment later. “Can I still see the ring?”

Laurel might have shown it to her to get her to leave it be, but then she remembered, “I, um, had it in the belt of my old suit. I’ll have to make sure Cisco sends it back with the new one.”

“Getting a new suit yourself? Nice.”

They were able to pass the rest of the time while waiting for their dad to finish preparing lunch on other topics, like Sara’s adventures through time so far and the various eccentric personalities she was essentially roommates with.

Just as they were finishing up eating there was a knock on the door. “I’ll get it,” their dad said. He went out to the front of the apartment and returned a few minutes later with Oliver and Thea.

“Sara, hey.”

“Hey yourselves. You both look fancy.”

“Just came from City Hall,” Thea informed them. “They’re looking for an interim mayor since Ruve skipped town.”

“So they did offer it to you?” Laurel asked Oliver. It was strange; he didn’t look happy they way she thought he would have been.

“They did. I, uh, told them I’d think about it.”

“Nearly turned them down outright,” Thea revealed, though she didn’t seem angry about it.

Laurel exchanged surprised looks with her family, but it was her dad who asked, “How come? Thought you really wanted the job?”

“I did — do. But for me to accept… they don’t like the idea of the mayor being married to someone in the DA’s office.”

Oh.

“They want to kick Laurel out?” Asked Sara.

“That’s why I said no.”

“But Thea stepped in?” When both Queens nodded, Laurel said, “Good. Ollie, you’re going to go back there tomorrow and tell them you’ll take the job.”

“What?”

“Laurel.”

Both her father and Oliver had spoken. Laurel stood up from the table, the better to make her point. It was habit. “We all agreed after you started your campaign that the biggest thing Star City needed from its leadership is stability. We can’t control for that with any other candidate. But we know you can protect yourself and can get in touch with any of the team if things get out of hand.”

“But that shouldn’t mean you have to leave the DA’s office,” Oliver insisted.

“But maybe it does. Ollie, when you came back and became the Hood, it was to get rid of a group of elites that had the city in a stranglehold. The people that exploited the system and got away with murder. The people that let the Undertaking happen.” She walked around the table. “I trust you, and I trust us, but I can see why people might be worried about corruption, about a new group of elites coming in and taking the place of the old.”

“But Laurel, this has been your dream.”

“My dream is to help people. I’m doing that as the Black Canary and I can do that as a lawyer in or out of the DA’s office.”

“You want to join the ACLU or something?” Her dad asked.

“Or start something specific to the needs of the people here. Like CNRI.” She looked down for a moment. “After the quake and Tommy dying there, going back to something like that was just too hard. But I think I’m ready now.” She turned back to Oliver. “And I could still help you while doing it.”

He looked at her conflicted. “It’s just for the interim. There’s no guarantee you’d win a real election.”

“Except you were guaranteed to win before Darhk interfered,” Thea spike up. “And we’ll all work twice as hard to make sure you win this time, Ollie. Laurel’s right. This city needs a mayor who cares and who can stand up to the threats that are out there. That’s still you.”

She noticed the grateful look he gave his sister before turning back to her. “You’re sure?”

Laurel nodded. It was maybe only a seed of an idea in her head at the moment, but the more she thought about it the more certain she was. The DA’s office was a good place to work, but there was far less of that personal touch CNRI had had. She missed being out there amongst real people she was helping.

“Oh yeah, she’s definitely made up her mind,” Sara remarked. “There’s nothing for it now.” She stood up and stretched. “Wish I could stay to see you set things up, but I’m pushing it as it is.”

Laurel and her father both hugged Sara, followed by Thea and even Oliver. Though Laurel thought she saw Sara’s lips move by Oliver’s ear…

It was later on the way home that she decided to ask, “What did Sara say to you?”

Thea leaned into the front to look at her brother in interest as well.

“Oh just, you know, some advice.”

Laurel resisted the urge to rest her head on the steering wheel. “She threatened you, didn’t she?”

“Not in some many words.”

Thea sniggered and sat back. “Better watch out, Ollie. Or it won’t be the terrorists our new mayor has to worry about.”

“It can never be simple.”

The next morning, Oliver was up just as early as she was, already pouring over some papers on the coffee table. “Do you think you could take a lunch meeting today?”

“I could. Why?”

“I’m meeting with the city council at 12:30. I’d like you to be there, because I’ll be giving them our decision.”

She fought down the little flutter in her chest and nodded. “I’d be happy to.”

Laurel made sure to set a reminder on her phone for the meeting, as she ended up getting caught up in prepping her office for her impending resignation. She wouldn’t hand in her two weeks notice until Oliver’s appointment as mayor was confirmed by the city council, of course, but she could organize her papers a little better.

As it was, she made it just on time. Oliver looked up with a smile and opened the door to the office for her. Inside waited the full city council.

“Councilmen, councilwomen, I believe you’ve met my wife,” Oliver said, his tone casual and light. It garnered a few smiles around the room. He led her to a seat at the table and sat beside her.

“We understand you’ve reached a decision regarding what we discussed yesterday?”

“I have, and thank you for allowing me the time. I needed to talk with Laurel before deciding anything. This wasn’t just about me. So I can tell you that I am happy to accept the position of interim mayor of Star City.”

Various members of city council nodded or smiled, clearly glad to have that matter settled.

Oliver continued, “Laurel has graciously agreed to step down from the position of ADA, which is good because I’m planning to have her run the nonprofit I’ll be pushing for the creation of as my first act as mayor.”

The assembled men and women looked at each other with surprise and interest. “And this nonprofit is?”

“A successor to the unfortunately scrapped CNRI. The Citizen Action Network and Resources Initiative. Otherwise known as C-A-N-A-R-I.”

Laurel bit her lip as Oliver met her eye and gave a wink.

“CANARI,” a councilman said with raised eyebrows.

“Yes, if you want to shorten it that way,” Oliver agreed, as if the idea hadn’t even occurred to him before.

“That move may signal to the public this new administration’s openness towards vigilantism, Mr. Queen, which would be a stark reversal from Mayor Adams’ stance.”

“I’m not saying that vigilantism will be legal or even tolerated under this administration, councilman. But there’s no denying the effect those individuals have had on the public. None more so than the Black Canary. I hear the kids especially love her,” Oliver said, and if he was planning to keep this up she was liable to kick his shin under the table to get him to stop. “Besides, a new and expanded CNRI deserves its own name.”

“A legal aid office for those of lower income has been sorely lacking since the earthquake,” one councilwoman pointed out. “It wouldn’t be a hard sell to allocate those funds.”

“We’ll need to see a proper plan for the organization of course,” a second councilwoman added.

“Of course,” Laurel agreed. “Oliver and I will be drafting a proposal for the council to read as soon as possible.”

“Very good. And thank you, Ms. Lance, for making the necessary choice for the sake of this city,” the first councilman said.

She nearly jumped when Oliver took her hand. What was he doing? “Few people have made as many of those choices as Laurel has.”

There were a few more technicalities to discuss before the meeting ended, then she walked out of the building with Oliver to grab a quick bite before heading back to work.

“So what was that in there?”

“What was what?” He asked.

Laurel opened her mouth to respond but that was when she noticed a man in a strange gray shirt and pants like pajamas step out from behind a dumpster with a knife.

“For the new world and for Damien Darhk!”

“ _Oliver!_ ”

Laurel had only meant to shout in warning. What resulted was something entirely different.

Her scream exploded outwards from her, hitting the attacker like a physical force and sending him flying back into one wall of the alley. Oliver himself has reeled back out of the way of the blast and slowly lowered his hands while staring at her as glass from windows in the buildings above rained down around them.

“I think we know what those particles did to you,” he said, loud in the otherwise complete silence.

They moved together to check on the man. A large bruise was forming where his head had impacted the wall, and blood trickled out of his right ear.

“There’s no real way we can explain this. We’ll have to call it in anonymously.” Oliver took her arm and pulled her the rest of the way down the alley and a few blocks away. Oliver dialed the police and quickly left the tip.

He hung up and looked at her. “Talk to me.”

“Should I?” She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding when her voice came out sounding normal.

“It must have been the stress. It’s like some kind of trigger. We should see what STAR Labs thinks.”

“I’ll go see them after my resignation.”

“Okay. We can—”

“Oliver, you don’t — this doesn’t have to be some kind of, of political marriage. Where we act like everything’s all picture-perfect in front of the cameras but secretly you’re seeing your secretary and I’m a day drinker. Everyone already knows that’s not what we are, so just—”

“You thought I was acting,” Oliver said, less of a question and more of a horrified statement. “I — God, I’ve been going about this whole thing wrong.”

“What are you talking about?”

Her phone beeped, the second alert telling her she needed to be back in her office. Laurel nearly wanted to scream it into oblivion since she could apparently do that now.

“I have to go. Keep me updated on whatever was happening with that guy back there, okay?” She hurried away before he could reply.

Laurel spent most of her remaining workday cursing herself for that little outburst. She shouldn’t have let it get to her. But then, the more like a real husband he acted the harder it was to accept she was never really going to have that kind of partnership in her life. Didn’t he get that?

They all met up in the base. From what Oliver had been able to get from the SCPD database — it was a good thing Felicity had left a lot of her programs downloaded onto their computers — the man was claiming he was one of the ‘chosen few’ for Darhk’s new world. He’d been planning to destroy the old one, and now a lot of people were angry they didn’t get to live in solitary paradise anymore.

“We’re gonna have to round these people up or we’re gonna have a mob on our hands,” John remarked.

“Yeah, and it sounds like they need some serious therapy,” Thea added.

“Alright, we’ll suit up. Laurel, if you could run the comms? At least until we have a better idea about—” Oliver gestured at his throat.

“Yeah.”

“Speaking of suits, I did find this waiting here for you. Probably a speedster delivery,” John said. He passed a wrapped package of decent weight her way.

“Thanks, John.”

Laurel waited until the others had suited up and left before opening it. She kind of wanted the first look all to herself, childish as it sounded. The suit was still mostly black, but she could tell the material covering her torso was now a dark navy blue and much more reinforced than her black top had been. Her boots were more flat with a steel heel she was sure would do some serious damage. He’d also added some mesh on the outside of each leg of her pants.

Underneath all of this was her jacket, totally restored, and the remnants of her old suit. Lastly, there was a note.

_Sorry this took so long. But in the meantime, we met your doppelganger and I got some ideas. There’s a ripcord in the sleeves of your jacket. If you pull them, it’ll release the panels I added and give you some control over a controlled fall — which you should be able to do with those sonic scream powers. Theoretically. Maybe even fly. This is so awesome. Call me for questions. -Cisco_

Laurel read the note over again, her head shaking in wonder. Flying? She couldn’t even imagine it. Regardless, she put the new suit away for now.

As she was shutting the case, John’s voice came over the comms. _“Heading back for the night.”_

She went over to answer. “Sounds good.”

Laurel then went back to the package, taking out her old boots and top. She’d have to find some other purpose for them now. She lifted the belt out and opened each pouch, frowning when every one of them came up empty. Looking through her new belt showed all the usual supplies, but the old photo and her wedding ring were missing. Where had they gone?

Laurel took up her phone and walked into the little side room to call Cisco, not really wanting the others to walk in on this.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Cisco, I just got the suit.”

“What did you think?”

“It’s great. I was just wondering, in my old belt there were some things of mine that I can’t find. Were you still hanging onto them?”

“Oh. No, I gave them to Oliver for safekeeping.”

Laurel’s heart flipped over. “Oliver?”

“Yeah, so I’d ask him to see what he did with them.”

“Okay, I guess I will. Um, thanks again for everything. I’ll try and get out to see you and the others soon.” She hung up and hung her head.

Oliver had the ring. Worse, he knew _she’d_ had the ring and kept it in a special place with an old memento of their love. What did he have to be thinking? She just didn’t understand. If anything, he should have been trying to distance himself instead of growing closer. Shouldn’t he?

Laurel walked out to the main room and nearly collided with him standing there. The others were nowhere to be seen.

“I — how much did you hear?”

“Enough. You, uh, would like your things back?”

“Yes, thank you,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster.

Oliver took the old photo out of a pocket on his own belt. He looked at it for a moment, his eyes soft. Then he held it out. She plucked it from his fingers.

“And the other…?”

“If I’m going to give that to you, there’s some things I need to say first. If that’s okay.”

Laurel nodded.

Oliver drew in a breath. “Laurel, when we agreed to this plan, I was rushing into something I didn’t realize would become so much more to me. I was just focused on my own pain and my own life, and that wasn’t fair to someone I was asking to share my life.”

“Oliver, you weren’t—”

“But I found some clarity the night of the wedding. Not just from your vows or mine, but a pledge I made to you years ago. To never doubt my love for you.”

She froze. The letter in her desk. She’d never had the heart to throw it away even at times when it had felt like it was mocking her.

“I’ve thought a lot about those words since that night. What I meant then, what I still mean.”

“Still?”

He smiled ruefully. “Laurel, it’s been a journey, trying to move on from you, and every time I end up standing back in the same place.”

“But you keep trying to leave,” she pointed out softly.

“I know. And I’m so sorry. There’s this fear I have that I’m just going to keep screwing this up, and then I leave which screws it up anyway. I’ve always been a coward about that. But the wedding, seeing what a life with you could be like if I just let go of that fear, it’s helped me more than you could know.”

Laurel had no response left to give, too overwhelmed. Her eyes felt heavy with tears she was trying to stop from falling and her throat felt tight. Her face was hot. She probably looked a mess.

Oliver took out the ring. “So, if that’s a life you could possibly still want, I’d like to do this properly.” Then he got down on one knee.

Laurel sucked in a sharp breath.

“Dinah Laurel Lance, will you stay married to me?”

 _Now_ she was dreaming. Had to be, right? But the more she looked at him, she could see the nerves underneath the calm, and surely her head wouldn’t be pounding if this were her dream proposal. He was still in his Green Arrow suit, they were in the Bunker and she had on her workout sweats. It was that strange combination of them that told her this was real.

“I — well, I have to until March,” she pointed out, stalling for time.

“And after?”

Staring into those blue eyes, she could really only hold out for another moment. Laurel nodded, not trusting herself to speak for it might come out a scream. Oliver’s smile spread across his face, and so she whispered anyway, “Yes.”

He stood up, taking her hand and slipping the ring back on as he did so. It was still a perfect fit. Then his finger tilted her chin up towards his own face. Laurel’s eyes fell closed.

“Yes!”

They both looked towards the source of the noise to see Thea had come out of hiding around the cases for the suits. John was poking his own head out as well.

“Aw, we should’ve had you change, Ollie. I wanted pictures!”

“Pictures later. Do you mind?” He asked his sister.

“Right. Sorry,” Thea said sheepishly. I’ll just be in the car.” She and John slinked away, and Laurel shook with laughter as she rested her forehead on Oliver’s shoulder.

She felt him clear his throat as well as heard it, so she looked back up again. “Sorry, where were we?”

“I think about here,” he replied, leaning in. His lips ghosted over hers, an echo of the past and, with any luck, a promise of the future. Laurel pressed back just as lightly, wanting to savor this moment. A part of her was still in the habit of hoarding their days.

He nosed along her jawline and towards her ear. “I owe you a proper wedding kiss.”

“Mm-hm.”

“And a wedding night.”

Laurel’s breath hitched as goosebumps rose along her arms and tickled the hairs at the back of her neck. Then she threw her arms around his neck.

“Yes, you do.”

It was the last thing she would say for a while, since he sealed his lips over hers in the next instant. It was better than all her closely held memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! I'm considering maybe writing a smut tie-in to this fic that I'd post separately so people who aren't into that can choose not to read. Let me know if there's any interest!


End file.
